Opening the Gate
by Vox Clamantis in Deserto
Summary: June 1990: Air Force Major Samantha Carter leads an Air-Force/Civilian team through the gate for the first time. AU retelling of the Stargate movie. Chapters 1-4 revised and corrected. Chapter 5 Posted!
1. Off We Go

_Opening the Gate_

**Description**: June 1990: Air Force Major Samantha Carter leads an Air-Force/Civilian team through the gate for the first time. AU retelling of the Stargate movie

**Disclaimer**: If you've seen/heard of it, then I don't own it. I'm making no money whatsoever off of this enterprise. If you've never seen/heard of it, then I may own it; please ask before using characters which I create.

**Revised/Completed**: December 2008

* * *

"Aliens, Dr. Jackson? That's preposterous!" Dr. Xavier exclaimed.

Daniel turned back to his audience and pushed his glasses up while protesting, "No, no, bear with me! The misspelling in—wait! Let me expla—" he pleaded while the group of archeologists left the auditorium. His words did not dissuade them, but his supervisor approached him.

"Daniel, I thought you agreed to abandon this line of speculation," the man said.

"Dr. Kelly, there's good evidence this—" he stopped, forestalled by Kelly's hand.

"Your grandfather was a good archeologist, Daniel," Kelly said, "but he got into crazy theories, and you know what it did to him."

Daniel crossed his arms, saying, "Please, this is nothing like—"

"Aliens, Dr. Jackson? It is rather preposterous. I was there when Nicholas started down this road. Give it up, Daniel, for your sake. You've already humiliated yourself, and the institution." Kelly turned away, saying, "Good luck."

"Dr. Kelly?" Daniel said as his mentor walked towards the elevator.

"I can't protect you from this, Daniel. I have to cut you loose."

Daniel's shoulders slumped as he looked at the empty seats. To his surprise, there was an elderly woman still sitting in the second row. They made eye contact, and she stood. "Dr. Jackson," she said, stepping into the aisle and walking towards him, "You should have waited for tenure before going public with these ideas. Then, you could make the claim of academic freedom. As it is," she shook her head, "You'll probably never get academic employment again."

"Thanks," he grumbled. Dr. Kelly was a respected friend, but Daniel didn't want to be lectured by some old woman.

"Fortunately," she answered, ignoring his tone, "I stopped working in academia a long time ago. Let me give you a ride." Intrigued, Daniel followed her through the atrium of the Park Plaza Hotel and into the June rainstorm. A white coup pulled up, and the woman opened the back door, climbing in and leaving it open for him to follow.

He got in and closed the door, buckling his seatbelt as the car accelerated. "So who are you?" he asked, brushing his hair out of his face.

"The only person who thinks you might be right," the woman answered. "My name is Catherine Langford. In 1928, my father discovered an artifact in Egypt, a great ring with thirty-nine symbols carved on it. After fifty years of study, we still haven't identified the ore—"

"Catherine," the driver interrupted as she merged onto the freeway, "He hasn't signed the confidentiality papers. You've already said too much."

"Don't worry, Samantha," Catherine answered, patting the driver's shoulder, "After the performance he just gave, Daniel could give photographic evidence of the ring and no one would believe him. Anyway," Catherine continued, addressing Daniel once again, "The Air Force has concluded that the ring is not of terrestrial origin. You're going to help us figure out what it does and how to use it."

"Do I have a choice?" Daniel asked.

"Well I'm sure that you could find a community college that would be thrilled to hire you as an ESL instructor," the woman smiled, "but if you want to keep working in archeology, this is probably your only shot."

Daniel pointed out the window: "We just passed my exit!"

"We're not going to your apartment," Catherine explained, "We stopped by earlier and got the things you'll be needing."

"How'd you get in?" Daniel frowned, crossing his arms.

The driver, Samantha, answered this: "I asked your landlord to let us in. Did you know he was a signalman in Korea? More than happy to help a major get her job done"

"So I never had a choice?" Daniel asked, sulking once again.

"I knew you wouldn't pass up the chance to prove your theory. This thing got its hooks in me when I was seven and hasn't let go," Catherine answered.

The MP stepped out of the guard booth, grateful that the rainstorm had passed. "I.D. cards," he told the driver of the coup.

Samantha reached back for Catherine's card, added it to her own, and handed them to the guard. "He doesn't have one," she said, pointing a thumb at Daniel.

The guard examined the cards, comparing the photographs to the two women. Satisfied, he handed them back to the driver and said, "You'll have to sign him in at the services desk. Back up and take a right; then just follow the signs."

Samantha smiled but didn't move the car. "Private," she said, "We are not here. That plane," she pointed across the tarmac, but Daniel couldn't see the plane from the angle of his seat "is not here. Why would someone who is not here need to sign in here to get onto a plane that is not here?"

The private hesitated and then answered, "He wouldn't, ma'am. Carry on." The private and his teammate behind the booth with an M-16 both saluted. Sam returned the salute and drove slowly through the gateway, saying, "Oh, and have someone pick up this car."

"Yes ma'am," the guard answered.

Samantha drove to the rear of the plane, which Daniel saw to be a small jet bearing the insignia of the United States Postal Service. A boarding ramp extended from the rear of the plane, and two uniformed servicemen came to attention as the car approached. Samantha and Catherine got out, and Daniel followed their example. Samantha returned the salutes of the two men and said, "Lieutenant Freeman, report."

"All quiet here, Major. Not so much as a pigeon," one of the men answered.

"Good," Samantha answered, taking the boarding ramp two steps at a time. Catherine went up at a more sedate rate, and so the major was already out of sight in the cockpit when Daniel made it into the cabin. Lt. Freeman and the other man came last, and Freeman hit a button that made the ramp pull into the bottom of the plane.

The cabin looked like that of a private jet, with white leather couches arranged around a table. The four sat down around the table. After a very brief time, the plane started taxiing, and Daniel watched through the window as the runway whizzed by and then dropped out of sight.

"You look nervous, Dr. Jackson," the other guard said, "Don't you like flying?"

"It's never seemed quite natural to me," Daniel answered, "What about yourself."

The man laughed, "Joseph O'Brian's loved planes ever since Grandpa took me up in that crop-duster."

The plane leveled at cruising altitude and the cockpit door opened. Carter came out, carrying a clipboard. She handed it to Dr. Jackson and said, "This is a standard non-disclosure agreement. On the next page, you'll find your civilian consultant contract. All you need to do is sign; we've already filled in your social security information and such."

Daniel thought that there was a fair amount of disdain in the woman's voice, but he glanced over the forms and signed, fairly certain that he didn't have any choice. Carter filed the papers and then sat down. She glanced at Freeman and O'Brian and said, "I think Warrant Officer Green is bored."

"We'll go keep him company," Freeman answered, and the two men walked to the cockpit, closing the door behind them.

Catherine opened a closet next to the lavatory and took out several rolled papers and a binder. She handed the binder and all but one of the papers to Carter and leaned over the table, unrolling the remaining paper. "This is a diagram of the ring I told you about. As you can see, the thirty-nine symbols are not hieroglyphics. We haven't found any connection with any other written language. Here are close-up views of the symbols," Carter handed her another paper, which she unrolled on top of the first."

Daniel pushed his glasses up and examined the symbols. "I've never seen anything like them. Um, why are six of them circled?"

"There was a cover stone buried inside the ring," Catherine said, unrolling yet another paper. "As you can see, there's a prominent cartouche containing those six symbols."

"Our theory," Carter added, "is that the device can create a wormhole to another ring. The six glyphs define a point in space."

"Like an address," Catherine said.

"Exactly," Carter answered, "dial the address: get a wormhole to that point."

"Dial?" Daniel asked.

"Look at the first diagram," Catherine said, "The part that has the glyphs is actually a separate ring enclosed within an outer ring. It can rotate, and if you rotate the ring to put each of the symbols into chevrons, then the chevrons light up and engage."

"You've done this?" Daniel asked.

"Many times," Carter said, "These glyphs and others, in different orders. A few combinations engage six chevrons, including the cartouche combination, but the thing deactivates after two or three glyphs in most combinations."

Daniel rubbed his forehead, thinking. "Why six glyphs," he asked, "There are nine chevrons."

Samantha nodded slightly and answered, "Six points can designate a single location in a three-dimensional space." She extended her index fingers. "Two points, you have a line. Four points, two lines, with an intersect, but if one of the lines is collinear with the line from dialing location to destination, I think it causes problems with maintaining the link, so it requires a third line, two more points, to establish an address."

"You think?" Daniel asked, raising his eyebrows.

Samantha narrowed her eyes, "I have a PhD in Astrophysics."

"Oh," Daniel answered. "So you dial these six symbols and then . . . what?"

"Nothing happens," Carter said, "It sits there."

"Have you tried dialing more glyphs?" Daniel pointed to the diagram of the ring, "All nine?"

"The seventh chevron won't engage," Carter answered.

"With any combination?"

"There are thirty-nine glyphs," Carter said exasperatedly, "With seven chevrons, not repeating any glyphs, there are 1,987,690,320 permutations." She shook her head, "there's no way to try every one of them."

"Besides," Catherine added, putting the cover stone paper back on the paper, "the cartouche only contains six glyphs."

The plane rocked, and then it shook violently. Catherine held onto the table for stability and lowered herself next to Daniel on the couch. "Turbulence," Carter said, dashing towards the cabin and crashing headfirst into it when the plane bucked again.

"Are you ok?" Daniel asked.

"Fine!" Carter snapped, bracing against the bulkhead while she opened the door and then slamming it shut behind her.

"I get the feeling she doesn't like me," Daniel commented to Catherine, "Not just now, I mean, but her tone when she was explaining about the chevrons . . ." he shook his head.

"She didn't want you brought in on this," Catherine agreed, "She thinks that you got lucky in coming up with a hare-brained theory which happened to be true, like a blind hog finding a mushroom. The fact that you presented your theory in the way that you did shows that you lack prudence, and that's a quality she wants everyone on her team to have."

"Her team?"

"General West is in command of Project Giza, but Major Carter will be the one leading the team through the ring, if we make it work. Figure out how to make it work and you'll have a fairly guaranteed slot on that team."

"And this is a good thing?"

"Where's your sense of adventure," Catherine slapped Daniel's shoulder, "the chance to go to another world, see things on one from Earth has seen in thousands of years."

"I'm sorry, but maybe we should review my theory about the aliens who built these rings," Daniel defended, "They were oppressive beings who used technology to impersonate gods. They made humans slaves and maintained forced labor camps. Eventually their depravities reached a point that the humans—our ancestors—revolted against them and drove them out."

"Most likely leaving through the ring," Catherine added, "and because of the cruelty of Ra, they buried the ring so that he could not return. I agree, it isn't a pleasant picture, but–"

"I'm sorry," Daniel interrupted, "Ra? I know he was one of the Egyptian gods, but how do we know that he . . ."

"The cover stone," Catherine answered, putting that paper back onto the table. "We translated the hieroglyphics across the top."

"Time a million years" Daniel stopped, frowning at the symbols. "This is awful! Who did you rely on for this? Budge?" He busied himself crossing out words from the printed translation and writing in replacements. "A million years into the sky is Ra the sun god/sealed + buried for all time." Daniel paused, thinking, "It's not 'door to heaven.' It's 'Star-gate'."

"Stargate?" Catherine asked.

"The ring. Wormholes to other planets, interpreted by primitive humans, would seem a lot like a, well, a gate to the stars," Daniel explained. Looking over the page again, he said, "This symbol under the cartouche; it isn't hieroglyphic."

"We think that it's just pictorial," Catherine answered, "This was found at Giza, and had to do with the worship of Ra. You have the pyramid, the human worshipers, and the sun, which was Ra's symbol."

"No," Daniel said, "Why would they put that here? I think that it's a seventh symbol."

"That symbol doesn't exist!" Catherine protested, "It's not on the gate."

"Yes, it," Daniel pushed aside the top page to uncover the one with pictures of the glyphs, "is right here." He circled one of the symbols and drew stick figure worshipers on either side. "Dr. Carter said that the six points define a destination. Now, if you want to get from point A to point B, knowing where point B is isn't enough."

Catherine gasped, "You have to know where point A is!"

"Exactly"

* * *

"Mail Run flight 227 requesting permission to land, Over," Maj. Cater said into the microphone.

"Roger Mail Run," the traffic controller's voice cackled over the speakers in her helmet. "You are cleared for landing on Runway Charlie. Approach from the South, Over."

"Roger, Runway Charlie, South approach, Over," Samantha looked at her copilot and gave a half-smile and nod. She then banked the plane rather sharply to the right for a tight 270 degree turn while pitching the plane into descent.

"This isn't an F-16, ma'am," Green said.

"You don't have to remind me of that, Warrant Officer," the Major answered without changing the pitch. She leveled the roll and reduced engine speed as the runway sped up towards the plane, and finally increased the pitch to level the plane shortly before the wheels hit the tarmac.

Once the plane had come to a stop, she turned off the engines and stood. "Take care of the taxiing," she ordered Green. Then she smiled at Freeman and O'Brian: Freeman looked rather pale after that landing, but O'Brian was grinning. She opened the door into the cabin and found her two archeologists looking woozy.

"Next time, let's take the bus," Catherine remarked. Samantha laughed and looked at the top paper, pointing at a seventh symbol that they'd circled and around which they'd drawn stick figures. "Dr. Jackson realized that the symbol under the cartouche contains a seventh symbol," Catherine explained.

"We think that it signifies the point of origin for the wormhole," Daniel added.

"Let's go tell the general," Carter answered, patting the pair on the shoulders.

By the time that the plane finished taxiing, everyone had recuperated from the landing and was able to walk to the main gate. "Cheyenne Mountain Nuclear Missile Complex," Daniel read aloud the words above the entry tunnel.

"This place was built back in the Sixties," Carter volunteered, "Of course, since the INF three years ago, we haven't officially kept any nukes here."

"Officially?" Daniel asked.

"She's pulling your leg," O'Brian said.

They reached an elevator, and Carter swiped a magnetic card and pushed the eleven button.

"I'm surprised that there're room for eleven levels," Daniel remarked, "The mountain didn't look that high to me." As the elevator began its descent, Daniel jerked his head up and said, "Ah, guys, shouldn't we be going up?"

"Sublevels," Catherine explained, "This elevator will take us almost halfway to the briefing room."

"Oh," Daniel answered, trying to act nonchalant.

At the eleventh level, they moved to a different elevator, and Carter again swiped her card and hit the 27 button. "Having a single elevator shaft would be less secure if the facility ever came under attack," she explained, "Splitting the shaft works kind of like an airlock." Daniel nodded understanding, thinking that her tone lacked the disdain that it had held earlier. The rest of the elevator ride passed in silence, and the group followed Maj. Carter down the hallway and to a nondescript blue door, upon which she knocked.

A middle-aged man with a thin mustache opened the door, and the military personnel in the group saluted. "Major Carter," the man said, returning the salute, "I assume that this is Dr. Jackson?"

"Yes sir," Carter answered, "This is Doctor Daniel Jackson. Dr. Jackson, this is General West."

"Nice to meet you General," Daniel answered, extending his hand.

The general shook Daniel's hand. "Let me know as soon as there's any progress." He started to return to his office, but Carter forestalled him.

"Actually, sir," she said, "They think they've already figured it out."

The general raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Already? Your plane landed less than fifteen minutes ago!"

"We worked on the plane," Daniel answered.

West shot Carter a look that might have been a glare, but Daniel wasn't sure what the problem was. "Come through here," he said, and they followed him through his office and into a briefing room. He sat at the head of the table, and the others took seats near him.

"Explain," the general ordered.

"Dr. Langford asked me to make copies of some of the research material to work on the plane," Carter said, "and since I was skeptical about Dr. Jackson's usefulness, I approved it. I figured there was no sense in wasting a day, Sir."

"And so once Dr. Jackson signed the paperwork, we showed him the materials," Catherine added.

"And he figured it out?" West asked.

"Ah, yes, General, Sir," Daniel stumbled over his words. "You see, sir, there was a seventh symbol hidden under the cartouche."

"A seventh symbol?"

"It was embellished with worshipers," Catherine said, "so we didn't recognize it. We think that it signifies Earth, where the wormhole should start. Think of it as drawing a line: you have to have both a start and an end, not just an endpoint."

"That also explains why it was outside of the cartouche," Daniel added, "The address within the cartouche is the actual address, and it would work from any Stargate. The point of origin is just for Earth, not really part of the address."

"Major," he said, "How does this sound to you?"

"It makes sense, Sir," she answered. "But I only know of one way to test it."

He nodded. "Let's go," he said, got up, and walked to a stairwell opposite from where the group had entered. The room they entered was a converted missile control room; it still had the same consoles and monitors, which had been modified to operate the Stargate.

Carter replaced one of the enlisted men sitting in front of the monitors and started typing into the computer. The Stargate, visible through the windows, began dialing, and then stopped, with one chevron lighting up. "Chevron One encoded," Carter said. The gate dialed, stopped, lit up, "Chevron Two encoded." The litany continued up to the sixth chevron, and then Carter looked at the General. "I recommend we close the blast shield, Sir."

"Go ahead," he said. The metal barrier lowered from the ceiling and the technician next to Carter switched a monitor to show feed from one of the security cameras in the next room.

Carter typed for a minute, and then the gate began rotating again. The pyramid symbol stopped in the next chevron, and it lit up. "Chevron Seven locked!" Carter said, and mass of bright blue shot out of the gate. "That's the unstable vortex we predicted," she said, "it should recede," by the time she'd said this, it had already done so, "into a stable event horizon."

"Radiation?" West asked.

"Safe," Carter said.

"Raise the blast shield," he ordered, "Sergeant, get a probe in there, and Major, assemble your team."

"Yessir," Carter answered. "Team Giza, report to Level Twenty Seven Briefing Room," she said into the microphone.

"It's beautiful," Daniel marveled, staring through the windows at the gate.

"The event horizon of a stable wormhole," Samantha answered, "Dr. Jackson, not to diminish the importance this has for archeology, but the implications this has for physics, the things we can test now; this is a big deal."

"We have the probe ready," the sergeant said.

"Take it up the ramp," West ordered, and Daniel saw a metal treaded device approach the gate. "Extend the robot arm," West continued.

Carter entered a command, and her monitor switched to a view from the arm-mounted camera. The arm reached the event horizon and then the screen went to static. "What happened?" the general asked.

"We think that matter can only travel one way through a wormhole," Carter answered. "The gate probably will store matter until an object fully passes the event horizon. That way, if someone pauses after entering the gate, half of them won't materialize on the other side."

"Try pulling the arm back," West ordered. The arm returned from the horizon, and Carter's monitor again showed the gateroom.

"Sir, I recommend we send the whole probe through," Carter said, "That's the only way we'll get a view of the other side.

"But nothing can come through in that direction," West answered.

"No matter," Carter corrected, "energy, including radio transmissions, should be fine."

"Alright," West nodded, "Go ahead."

"Proceeding through the gate," the sergeant said. The probe rolled into the gate. "Tracking outgoing traveler," the sergeant said, and then Carter's monitor went black. "The traveler has rematerialized on the other side," the sergeant said, "On a planet in the same spiral arm of the galaxy as Earth."

"Activate the probe's lights," Samantha ordered. The image on her screen changed to show a stone room with stairs leading down to a doorway. "Rotate to the left," as the camera moved, the major pointed to something. "That podium looks like it may control the gate." The camera rotation continued, eventually facing back into the gate.

"Sergeant, continue exploring the area," West ordered, "Major, let's brief your team."

* * *

Daniel, Catherine, and two other archeologists were the only ones at the briefing in civilian clothing. The rest of the table was filled with Air Force personnel; West, Carter, Freeman, Green, and O'Brian he already knew, but Carter opened the meeting by introducing all those present. "Lt. Freeman is my first officer. Lt. Kawalsky is from the construction battalion; under him are Airmen Harris and Johnson. Warrant Officer Green is pilot. Airmen First Class O'Brian, Jones, and Maybourne are in small arms. Airman Pasteur is a sniper. Everyone already knows General West, Dr. Langford, and myself. Doctors Lee and Milton are archeologists. That just leaves Dr. Jackson, who figured out how to make the gate work."

"As you can see through the window, we have made the," West hesitated, "Star-gate form a wormhole to another planet. We sent a probe through the wormhole and it has confirmed that the atmosphere and temperature are livable. However," West paused for emphasis this time, "We believe that matter can only travel one way through the wormhole. If we send anyone through, there may be no return trip."

"Can't we just dial back the same way?" Airman Pasteur, a young black man, asked.

"The dialing device on that planet may have a call-back function," Carter answered, "We didn't get one with our gate, so we don't know, but most likely we'll need to figure out Earth's address."

"That will be your job, Dr. Jackson, if you're up to it?" West asked.

Daniel thought, wondering if a wagon ride like this was a good idea. He remembered Catherine's comments on that and answered, "I wouldn't have figured out what I did without Dr. Langford's help, sir. If we're hoping for a repeat performance, I think she should come as well."

Catherine laughed once, "I appreciate what you're doing, Dr. Jackson, but I'm an old woman. I stopped doing field work a long time ago."

West and Carter took Daniel's suggestion seriously. "I'm not telling you to do anything you're uncomfortable with, Doctor," General West said, "But if sending you with Dr. Jackson means a better chance of success, then I'd like you to go."

Catherine grinned, "Then I guess I'm in."


	2. Into the Wild Blue Yonder

A/N: This one has a bit of medical information, nothing too graphic, but consider yourselves warned.

* * *

As the Team Giza filed into the gateroom, General West pulled Carter aside. "Major, are you sure you're ready for this?"

"No, sir," Carter answered, "We have no idea what's waiting for us other than a few hundred meters of passageways explored by the probe. But if you're referring to the," she paused as Dr. Jackson approached. He stopped and looked at the two officers, wondering what was going on.

Samantha waved him on into the room, and then leaned toward the general and said softly, "If you're referring to the other objective, I will fulfill my duty."

"Then you have a go," West said, "Good luck."

"Thank you, sir," Carter answered. She passed through the blast door and saw that her team was assembled around the F.R.E.D. She glanced up at the control room and saw West looking out from behind the technicians. She couldn't hear the order he gave, but the gate started dialing.

"Chevron One encoded," the tech said.

"Stay away from the vortex that the gate emits," she warned her team, "it will probably vaporize anything that comes into contact with it."

"Chevron Two encoded."

Samantha was pleased that her team starter to move away from the gate before they heard her reason. If they did what they were told, the mission would be a bit safer.

"Chevron Three encoded."

'Maybe I should have called my dad,' Samantha thought.

"Chevron Four encoded."

'No,' she answered herself, '_He_ would have found out what I was going, and he'd have stopped it.'

"Chevron Five encoded."

Carter heard someone humming the Air Force Song, and smiled, thinking about the aptness of the words.

"Chevron Six encoded."

Everyone in the team seemed to be holding their breaths except, Carter saw, for Pasteur and O'Brian, who were the ones humming.

"Chevron Seven locked!"

"Yee-ha!" O'Brian yelled as the vortex whooshed out of the gate.

"Permission to go first, Ma'am," Pasteur asked the major, but she didn't answer because West was on the microphone.

"Team Giza, good luck. We'll keep a light on for you," he said as the F.R.E.D. rolled up the ramp and through the gate.

Carter saluted the general and then smiled at Pasteur, "Not a chance. Watch my back." She walked up the ramp and heard her team behind her. "One small step," she joked, and then she walked through the event horizon.

Carter was thrown from the gate faster than she had entered it, covered with a thin layer of frost. She rolled into a crouch, grateful for her helmet and flak jacket, and swept her MP5 over the room, which was illuminated only by the blue glow of the stargate. There was no one in the room except her for a few moments, and then Pasteur came flying out of the gate. He also surveyed the room while getting up, and then he remarked, "She's got some kick to her."

"Flares," she ordered, letting her rifle hang by its shoulder strap and pulling two calcium flares out of her vest. She twisted the igniter on the first one and tossed it to the side of the room, away from Pasteur, as it started to burn, and then she ignited the second one and tossed it down the exit hallway. Then she knelt at one side of the doorway pointing her rifle down the hall, and Pasteur assumed an identical position on the other doorjamb. The only sounds for several minutes were the arrival of Team Giza members, each of whom was thrown across the room as Samantha and Pasteur had been. When O'Brian had recovered from his trip, he relieved her at the jamb, and she stood, again allowing her rifle to hang on its strap. She surveyed her team: her men looked only a little worse for wear, but Catherine was sitting on the steps cradling one wrist and Daniel was kneeling over one of the flares attempting to warm his hands.

"Dr. Jackson," Carter said, "Those flares are designed to burn cool to avoid igniting surrounding materials. Give it a minute and the chill wears off. Is everyone alright?"

"I think I sprained my wrist on that landing," Catherine answered, but the rest just nodded that they were fine.

"I'm first aid trained," Carter sighed. Catherine was lucky she hadn't broken her hip. "Lt. Freeman, take the men and secure the area. The probe should be in a large room a hundred meters down this hall."

"Yes ma'am," Freeman answered, "Jones, Maybourne, take point. Let's move." As the team moved out, Carter toggled her radio and said, "Team Giza to Cheyenne Mountain, everyone is accounted for. The ride's a bit bumpy, and Dr. Langford injured her wrist. I've sent Freeman ahead to check on the probe. Stand by, over."

"Understood, Major," Gen. West's voice answered, "Standing by, over."

Samantha took an aid kit from the F.R.E.D. and sat next to Catherine. "Let's take a look at this wrist," she said, taking it in both hands and squeezing gently. Catherine inhaled sharply, and Samantha felt the heat from the joint. "It may be broken, but all I'll be able to do is splint it anyway." Carter unwrapped a splint and aligned it to Catherine's forearm and hand. She threaded the Velcro straps and checked the alignment before tightening. Catherine gasped again. "Sorry," Carter said, "Do you need something for the pain?"

"No," Catherine answered, "I'll just avoid bending it."

Samantha smiled at the older woman and nodded slightly. She slid the splinted arm through the chain of a large pendant that Catherine was wearing. She hadn't noticed it in the gateroom, so she assumed Catherine must have had it under her vest. Then Samantha picked up the splint's wrapper and pressed her radio again.

"I'm going to test two-way transportation," she said, tossing the balled-up wrapper through the event horizon and waiting for a count of fifteen, "Has anything come through? Over"

"No, Major, over," the technician's voice said.

"Understood," Carter answered, "recommend that you cut power to the gate. We'll start working on the return trip, over and out."

"Cutting power in ten; over and out"

Cater counted to ten, and then the wormhole dissipated, leaving the room much darker, illuminated only by the flares. "Doctors, figure out how to call home," she said, walking to the far side of the F.R.E.D. I think that podium is the dialer."

While the two archeologists examined the device, Carter moved one of the cargo cart's storage bags and pressed a recessed button. A panel withdrew from under where the bag had been, revealing a secret compartment. Within the compartment were a transmitter, a small cylindrical firing charge, and a sphere with a cylinder extending from it. The major slid the cap into a hole on the end of the cylinder opposite the sphere.

"We've secured the room," Carter's radio crackled, "I'm sending Harris and Green back with the probe, over."

"Understood," Carter answered, grabbing the transmitter and putting it into her vest pocket before closing the panel. She shifted the storage bag back to its original location and then walked over to observe the two archeologists. "Any progress?"

"Ah, yes," Daniel answered, "We think we've figured out how to dial, and what the point of origin is."

"Impressive," Carter answered.

"You see, as you press down on these glyphs, they light up. Thirty-eight of the glyphs are the same as those on our gate: the only one missing is our point of origin," he explained, "And this glyph," he pressed on it, "Was not on our gate."

"And the address for Earth?"

"We haven't found it," Catherine answered. "There's no writing in this room apart from the control glyphs. We hope the other rooms will have some."

"Well, I haven't seen any," Green said as he and Harris came back with the probe.

"Report," Carter ordered.

"The next room has a whole bunch of square columns and one hallway with light at the end of it, Ma'am," Green said, "There was no sign that the probe had been touched since we sent it."

Carter nodded, hoping that the warrant officer had missed some detail that would be meaningful to the archeologists. "Let's go," she said, and then she started down the hallway, resting one hand on the butt of her MP5. She set out at a slow walk, allowing plenty of time to observe the brown stone walls by flare-light.

Unfortunately, no one noticed anything on the walls, but just before they reached the colonnaded room, Freeman radioed again, "We've reached the exit, Ma'am," he said, "We're in a sandy desert. Temperature outside is in the hundreds, and I hope everyone remembered their sunglasses, because the sun is bright. Kawalski recommends that we use the pyramid; that's what we're in, by the way; anyway, he recommends that we use the naturally cool pyramid as our shelter rather than relying on the tents. Over"

"Sounds good," Carter answered, "Do you have any idea what time it is locally? Over"

"Looks like about noon, Ma'am. Over"

"Leave two sentries near the exit and bring the rest back. We'll set up and get some shuteye now and do further explorations in the evening when it's cooled off. Over" Sam's group had reached the column room by now, and she, Harris and Green searched it one more time for anything amiss. Finding nothing, they turned the room over to Jackson and Langford for investigation.

"The decoration on these columns is consistent with early First Dynasty burial temples in the Lower Nile," Daniel remarked, his nose a couple inches from the repeating pattern.

"Which is consistent with your timeline on the departure of the aliens," Catherine agreed.

"But what does it say?" Harris asked.

"What?" Daniel answered as he rummaged through his pack, pulling out a sheet of paper and a charcoal stick to make a rubbing, "Oh, um, it doesn't. It's just a decoration."

"Just a decoration?" Harris said, looming over Daniel, "Well, why don't you ignore it and find out how to get us home, instead of playing with crayons?" Harris grabbed the paper from Daniel, crumpling it up as he pulled it away from the startled archeologist.

"Airman Harris!" Carter shouted, "Back off." She glared at him without saying anything more until he had stepped back. "I'm sure Dr. Jackson has a perfectly good reason to be doing what he's doing. Unless you have a degree in Egyptology that you haven't told me about, I suggest you keep in mind that Dr. Jackson and Dr. Langford are trained professionals. I'm sure that they have a perfectly good reason for what they're doing." At the last sentence, she looked pointedly at the doctors.

"Knowing the context of this construction will help us in translating any writings we find," Catherine said.

"I . . . see," Harris uncrumpled the paper, smoothing the wrinkles out on the corner of one of the pillars.

* * *

Evening came, and Carter ordered the whole group out of the pyramid. "Freeman, take Johnson, Pasteur, Jones, and Dr. Jackson. Green, O'Brian, guard the doorway. Kawalsky, Harris, Maybourne, and Dr. Langford are with me," she said as they stepped out of the columned exit. She made eye contact with Lt. Freeman and pointed down to the obelisks and then off to the left, indicating the direction she wanted his group to take. The groups would circle the pyramid in opposite directions, making the most use of the moderate light. The soldiers, other than Green and O'Brian, stood on the steps as Daniel and Catherine examined the obelisks.

"These are the only obelisks I've ever seen that didn't have writing on them," Daniel said in exasperation.

"I was stationed in D.C., Dr. Jackson," Pasteur answered, "didn' notice any writing on the Washington Monument."

Daniel sighed and corrected himself, "Every Egyptian obelisk known to man is covered with hieroglyphics. They praise the gods, the pharaoh, military victories, something."

"Maybe Ra only brought laborers through the gate," Catherine suggested, "No one knew how to write."

"But we think that the Egyptians learned writing from the aliens," Daniel argued, "Why wouldn't they just re-teach the skill?"

"Daylight's wasting," the Major interrupted. She suspected that the sun would be up for a couple hours yet, but she also guessed that the archeologists could spend that arguing, and she wanted to find out what the rest of the pyramid would tell them, "Let's move." Carter took point for her team, but climbing the uneven sand drifts around the stone edifice required her to let her rifle hang and move on all fours as often as not. The drifts, and the sand's tendency to slide down as someone put weight on it, slowed their inspection to figurative crawl as well as a literal one.

They had been moving for about twenty minutes when Freeman radioed, "Ma'am, we seem to have, ah, lost Dr. Jackson, over."

Carter couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Say again, over," she answered.

"Dr. Jackson wandered off, Ma'am, over," Freeman said.

The major shot a look at Catherine and toggled her radio again: "Doctor Jackson? Major Carter to Dr. Daniel Jackson; respond! Over"

"This is Green," the warrant officer's voice came over the radio, "Dr. Jackson left his vest at the entryway. It has his radio. Over"

"That idiot," Carter exclaimed. Then she hit her radio again and asked, "Does he have his flare-gun? Over"

"No Ma'am," Green answered, "His Very Pistol is here. Over"

Samantha bowed her head for a few seconds and then radioed again, her tone curt but in control, "We need to find him before dark, we have no idea how cold this place gets at night. Green, fire a flare. If he's lost, it might help him find the pyramid. Freeman, we've left pretty clear tracks in the sand, backtrack to where Jackson left your group. Deploy your men in ten meter intervals, but leave someone behind to meet us. Do not let yourselves get out of sight of the pyramid, over."

"Understood, over," Freeman said.

Green had evidently fired the flare; it was visible above the side of the pyramid. Carter had a further thought as her group rounded the corner back to the temple's entrance. "Green, get the climbing gear from our supplies, over." She glanced back at Kawalsky as she neared a valley between two dunes and said, "Lieutenant, I believe that CBs are all climb-trained."

"A myth, Ma'am," he answered, cocking his head to one side and smiling, "That was never mandated. But I make sure all my boys are certified."

"That's the type of zeal that gets you sent on fool's errands like these," Sam smiled, although she was crawling up a dune now, so he couldn't see her face, "You and Harris will have quite a view from the peak. You'll keep a light up there through the night."

"I think this will deserve its own chapter in my memoirs," the lieutenant joked, "A Candle for Dr. Jackson."

Samantha laughed, regretting it as a breeze blew sand into her mouth. "Include this, and you'll have to shoot anyone who reads those memoirs."

"Then I'll keep it away from my wife."

Samantha snorted at that. She and West had made sure that no one on the team was married. Other than Catherine and Daniel, all of them had at least one brother back home too. The reasoning for that sobered her, though, and she was barking orders when her group made it back to the entrance, "Kawalsky, Harris, get climbing. Everybody have their flashlights?" She glanced around and saw Maybourne shake his head. "Green," she jerked a thumb toward the airman, which he understood and handed his flashlight to Maybourne.

"Take good care of it, Harry," Green said.

"Catherine, stay here," the Carter ordered, but the older woman shook her head.

"Not a chance."

"Dr. Langford—" the major began, but Catherine interrupted.

"I made the call to being Daniel in on this. He's my responsibility."

"You'll slow us down."

"I've kept up with your boys so far." The archeologist started in the direction that Freeman's group had gone, and Carter followed, wishing that they'd kept to strictly military personnel. The slope was more difficult in the direction they were going now, and so everyone saved their breath for climbing until they came to Pasteur, whom Freeman had left behind to show the others where they'd lost Dr. Jackson.

"Ma'am," he nodded when the group came within a short distance. Carter understood the lack of salute to mean that he was following combat procedures. Salutes marked out officers to any opposing snipers. "We estimate that Dr. Jackson has been gone about fifty minutes by now. Lt. Freeman and the boys have a twenty minute lead on us."

"No need to fan out with them ahead of us," the major answered, "Maybourne, take up the rear." She took point herself and set as rapid of a pace as the terrain allowed without running.

"Freeman to Carter," the radio crackled, "Jackson's trail meets with something else. It's a vehicle or a large animal, but the breeze had made it difficult to get anything certain other than which way it went. For that matter, I can't even tell which trail marks the thing coming and which marks it going. I'm sending Jones and Johnson on the left trail and taking the right one myself. Over"

"Negative," Carter answered, "I don't want anyone else wandering alone. Take the left trail, my group will take the right one. Over"

"Understood, taking the left trail, over."

Samantha took to glancing back at the pyramid from the crest of each dune while she waited for the others to catch up to her. She measured the height of the sun against the edifice with each glance. The sun was setting more slowly than she had expected. Either the rotation of this world was slower than that of Earth, or they were farther from the equator than she had guessed.

The tracks were indeed quite eroded by the breeze: there was little more than a furrow of disturbed sand in either direction when Samantha's group reached it. "Spread out, ten meters," she ordered, walking five meters from the groove itself. Catherine placed herself on the opposite side of the groove, and the two airmen flanked the women. Their vigilance proved fruitless, as there was no sign of activity except the furrow itself until they crested a dune and saw a cluster of tents with people and large animals moving between them. Carter waved to her people to drop back behind the dune and close up the space between them. "Pasteur, check it out," she whispered once the four were collected.

The sniper shifted how his rifle hung on its shoulder strap so that it wouldn't drag through the sand and then crawled on his stomach to the top of the dune. He pulled out a pair of binoculars and examined the facility. He then crawled back down and reported, "No sign of fortifications or guards, Ma'am. It looks like a mine to me. They must have a settlement somewhere nearby; there are no women or young children in sight. I'd guess that one of their beasts of burden made the track we've been following."

Samantha nodded, and then she looked at her archeologist, "What do you think?"

"We have to make contact, Major," Catherine answered, "They know the terrain, even if they don't have Daniel, they could help us find him. Besides, we haven't found a clue of Earth's address at the pyramid."

"So . . . what? Do we just walk up and say 'Hi'?" Carter asked.

"Why not?" Catherine said, "They have no guards and no fortifications. That probably means that they don't have any enemies. We should be pretty safe."

Samantha spoke into her radio, "This is Carter: we've found a settlement of some kind. Dr. Langford thinks that it is safe, so we're going to make contact. Over"

"Understood, Major," Freeman's voice answered, "So far, we've found sand. Over"

Samantha got up and began to take point, but Catherine's excitement about the meeting drove her to the front. No one seemed to notice the four as they came over the dune, but a few people looked up as they came into the camp itself. Catherine tried to greet the people, saying, "Salvate! γειά σου!"

The men looked curiously at the older woman but said nothing. She untucked her injured arm from its improvised sling and put both hands on her chest. "Catherine," she said.

This produced more of a stir among the men, who spoke rapidly to one another, finally sending one of the youths running towards the tents. A crowd gathered around the visitors. They stared at the four but looked down if one of them made eye contact. After a minute a worried-looking man made his way through the crowd. He was older than the workers, with more white than grey in his beard. He glanced at the visitors as he reached the front of the crowd and then bowed and knelt facing Catherine. The crowd followed his example, and soon the whole circle was kneeling.

"Doctor?" Samantha asked softly.

"I think it's my amulet," Catherine answered, "They couldn't see it when my arm was in the way. It's the symbol of the god Ra. They must still worship him here."

The old man spoke in a pleading tone, glancing up at Catherine's face to see if his entreaties had any effect.

"This is amazing," Catherine commented, "He's speaking Egyptian, probably."

"Great," Pasteur answered, "What's he saying?"

"I don't know."

"Come on, Doctor, don't joke. You did those translations, didn't you?" The airman asked.

"That was written," Catherine explained, "No one knows what sounds corresponded to the hieroglyphics." She tried writing the symbol for peace in the sand, but the old man hurriedly brushed it away. Catherine tried several more symbols, and each was wiped out except for the "Ra" symbol, identical to the one on her pendant.

Carter surveyed the tents around them, wondering if Daniel was captive in one of them. Growing impatient with Catherine's attempts at communication, the major ordered, "Pasteur, stay with Dr. Langford. Maybourne, you're with me." She walked toward the crowd, and one of the men called out. The old man answered, and the crowd parted in front of Samantha.

The first few tents had no one and few things in them. A few blankets, cups, and what looked like the remnants of a dice game sat where they'd been left when all the occupants left to see the visitors. As she approached the final tent in a row, Samantha heard a low groan. She gripped her MP5 with both hands and flipped off the safety. Maybourne likewise readied himself and they both charged into the tent, looking for guards or jailers holding Daniel captive. There were neither guards nor jailers. Instead, they found the archeologist and an adolescent boy each lying under a blanket. The sudden entrance of the two strangers was enough to dray the boy's attention, and he slowly lifted his head to see the newcomers through exhausted eyes. Daniel, however, did not respond.

Samantha flipped the safety back on and set her rifle down. "Daniel," she said, feeling his pulse. It was stable, but he did not wake up. His hair was disheveled and sandy, but Carter still noticed a swelling just above his hairline. "Concussion," she said.

Maybourne nodded and moved next to the boy. "Heatstroke," he declared.

"Yes," Carter agreed as she joined him over the boy. "Hi there," she said, smiling, when the boy made eye contact. "He's definitely dehydrated." There was another smell almost hidden by the stink of dehydration. Samantha felt his forehead and then under his chin. "He has a fever, and his lymph nodes are swollen. I think the heat stroke is secondary." As she bent over him, she was able to identify the smell—feces. "Diarrhea is one of the leading causes of death in undeveloped countries. It causes dehydration, and without medicines to treat it and replacement fluids, people don't always recover." She opened one of the pockets in her vest and pulled out an ounce-sized bottle. "But if they can get some Imodium and an IV, the problem usually resolves itself in a few days." She opened the bottle and held it to the boy's mouth. He slowly lifted one hand and held weakly onto the bottle over Samantha's hand. She helped him tip it back, and was glad to see him swallow successfully. As she tossed the now-empty bottle out the door, she used her radio, "We've found Dr. Jackson; he has a concussion but should be okay. Freeman, head back to the pyramid and get me a fluids IV from the medical supplies. Over"

"It'll be dark soon after we reach the pyramid, Ma'am," Freeman answered, "How soon do you need the fluids? Over"

Carter grimaced. The boy was young and, looked strong, but she didn't know how long he'd been in this condition. But at the same time she didn't want her people wandering around in the dark. "Set out at sunrise," she finally decided, "Over." She then ordered Maybourne, "Go show Catherine where to find us."

The airman nodded and left, and while he was gone Carter managed to get the boy to drink a few ounces of water from her canteen. Maybourne returned after a few minutes with Catherine, Pasteur, and the old man, who glanced at Daniel before kneeling next to the boy and saying only, "Skaara."

Catherine stood next to Samantha and said, "The man's name is Kasuf. He's the leader of the tribe, which has a city nearby. How's Daniel?"

"He still hasn't regained consciousness," the major answered, "What are they saying?"

"I think that's his son," the woman answered, "'How are you?' 'Better' 'How?' 'The woman'—I think that's you—'gave me strange water.'" Catherine gave Samantha an inquisitive look.

"Imodium," Carter answered, "It's mint-flavored."

Kasuf stood and bowed to Carter, and Catherine translated, "He's thanking you for bringing comfort to his son. He thinks you're Isis, or that you're one of her priestesses—I'm not really sure—and he pledges to honor Isis with a feast if Skaara recovers."

"Thank him for taking care of Daniel," Carter ordered, and Catherine did so.

The group sat down in the tent and Catherine spoke further with Kasuf inquiring about the history of his people, occasionally relaying information that she thought would be meaningful to Samantha: "When Ra retreated from Earth, he forbid the Abydonians all writing. He comes here only rarely; this planet is a mining colony. Every so often—I haven't figured out their time references—they send a shipment of ore through the stargate."


	3. Climbing High

A/N: Italics indicate non-English speech

* * *

Carter smiled at the stillness of the camp in the fading late evening light. The mission was going well: Daniel had woken up and was rapidly absorbing the language from Kasuf and Catherine. Kasuf had an idea of where to find Earth's address back in the city. The workers had returned to said city, but Skaara was too weak for the move, so Kasuf and her people were in the tent keeping the boy company. Thus, there was no one else outside the tent except her. She climbed a dune so that she could see the flare still burning on top of the pyramid. "Carter to Kawalsky. Over"

"Kawalsky here. Over"

"I'm going to fire a flare, which should give you a straight bearing to take in the morning. I don't think the mastadge trail will still be there. Over"

"Understood, watching for the flare. Over"

Carter fired the flare and watched as the light streaked up into the sky. From her vantage point, it looked like a star falling up into the sky.

"We have a bearing," Kawalsky said, "Over."

"Roger, over and out." Samantha sat down on the dune, admiring the night sky. None of the constellations were recognizable, but she knew that Abydos was close enough to Earth that most of the stars were the same. A moon, browner than that of Earth but equally bright, rose slowly. After many minutes, Samantha saw a meteor shower and smiled at the lights.

Then the meteors turned and moved levelly across the sky. Puzzled, she pulled out her binoculars and focused on one of the lights. She couldn't make out the details at that distance, but she saw it disappear into a dark object. Moments later that object came out of Abydos' shadow and was lit by the local sun's light. It was a brown-orange pyramid surrounded by a jagged black metal structure. Unable to take her eyes off of the vessel, she triggered her radio by feel. "Doctors, when Ra visits, does he come through the stargate or by ship? Over"

"Just a minute," Daniel's voice answered. There was a pause, and then he continued, "By ship. Over"

There was a screeching roar and Samantha dove to the ground, dropping her binoculars and scanning the sky with her naked eyes. Two crescent silhouettes flew overhead. "We have bogies: get ready. Over"

Carter crawled along the ridge of the dune, allowing her a wide view without giving away a significant silhouette. The crescents formed up into formation with four others and landed. Twelve figures entered the camp. They were humanoid, but, except for one figure, their heads were those of animals.

"You have twelve entering camp. Over," the major said. She kept a ridge hiding her from the creatures while she passed by them, going to investigate their ships.

"Kasuf says that Ra is a friendly god," Catherine answered, "Since they still worship him, he has no reason to attack. Over"

"Be that as it may, Doctor," Maybourne said in the tent when it was clear that the major had nothing further to radio, "I think you two should still be armed. He pulled his M9 from its hip holster, flipped the safety off, cocked it, and handed it to the woman. Pasteur similarly prepared his Beretta and handed it to Dr. Jackson. "It's ready to fire, Ma'am," Maybourne continued, "Just point and shoot."

Two animal-headed beings carrying staves entered the tent and held the flaps open. An adolescent boy entered, followed by three more guards. Kasuf knelt before his god, and Catherine imitated him, saying to Maybourne and Pasteur, "When in Egypt, do as the Egyptians do."

Ra looked at Catherine curiously and stepped forward, lifting up her amulet and asking something. "He wants to know why I wear his symbol," Catherine told her escort before answering in Egyptian, "_I wear it for luck; it was given to me by my father_." [A/N: italics indicate non-English speech]

Ra paused looking at the group. "_From where do you come?_"

Kasuf answered, "_They are visitors from a far off world, which they call '_Earth'."

Ra repeated the unfamiliar English word, "'Earth?' _Where is this world?"_

"_We do not know the address_," Catherine answered, "_But the point of origin is this_." She drew the Giza glyph in the sand.

Ra's eyes flashed. "_I know your people. Your gate was buried generations ago. I was inclined to forget your offenses against me, but now you have desecrated my temple with your presence, and come out as if for war."_

"_We bear you no hostility,"_ Catherine said, _"We wish to learn."_

This seemed to anger Ra even more. _"I taught you once, and you repaid me with evil. Now, I find you on my world. How many of you have come through the Stargate?"_

"Doctor, he doesn't look happy," Maybourne cautioned, "Be careful what you tell him."

"I know that," Catherine answered, _"We are all that came through."_

Ra barked an order to his Jaffa, and two of them departed. _"Fool! We already dealt with the soldiers at the pyramid! We detected transmissions from this area. Show me how your technology works, and tell me how to find all of your people."_

Catherine remained silent, and Ra grabbed her injured wrist, twisting it backwards. _"Show me!"_ Catherine winced at his rough treatment but still refused to answer. Ra gave an order, and one of the Jaffa dragged Skaara from his mat. The still-weak boy was forced to his knees, and then the Jaffa stepped back, lowering his weapon to point at the boy.

"We can't give him information that he might use against Earth," Catherine answered, hardening herself against the guilt which she expected. "I'm sorry, boys."

The two Jaffa returned, carrying rifles, vests, and several bags from the F.R.E.D. _"You will demonstrate the use of the communications equipment."_

Kasuf looked at his son and then at Catherine, who was still wincing from the grip Ra had on her wrist. _"I saw the operation of their devices"_ the old man said, _"The communications require two people to operate. May I show you?"_

Catherine looked at Kasuf but said nothing. He returned her glance and said _"I'm sorry, _Catherine."

Ra smiled: _"Your obedience will be rewarded."_

Kasuf stood and rummaged through the equipment that the Jaffa had brought, eventually finding the device he wanted. _"You must speak into this. I will hold the activator. They prepare it by doing this," _he pressed a switch, and then pulled back the upper section of the device. He then held it up so that the opening he'd showed Ra earlier pointed at the deity.

Ra spoke into the opening, _"I am the god Ra. I demand—"_

Ra's words were cut short by three bangs as Kasuf pulled the trigger of the Beretta. The Jaffa, ignorant of the nature of the device that Kasuf was using, were caught off guard by this turn of events. Maybourne and Pasteur had figured out what the old man had in mind and reacted first, each opening fire on the Jaffa nearest them; Pasteur took out the one who was threatening Skaara. Daniel and Catherine imitated the two soldiers, shooting the next two Jaffa. The one Jaffa that remained was the one that had been standing closest to Ra and the captured supplies and farthest from the Tau'ri. He was too close to Kasuf to bring his staff to bear, so he instead struck with the shaft of the weapon, knocking Kasuf's arms up so that the old man couldn't aim his firearm. Pasteur quickly aimed at the Jaffa's chest and fired several shots.

The final Jaffa fell, and Pasteur clapped Kasuf on the back. "I like your style, old man," he said, "If you're ever down in Dixie, I'll introduce you to my grandma." The old man had no idea what Pasteur had said, but he grinned back at the soldier and nodded.

"Major said that there were twelve bogies," Maybourne said seriously, "That leaves six more, and I'd rather not wait for them. Get vests on if you're not already wearing them, and let's get out of here."

Catherine explained this order to the two Abydonians, and they scavenged through the equipment that the Jaffa had brought to get vests for Daniel, Kasuf, and Skaara. Maybourne lifted the boy in a fireman's carry, and Kasuf cut an exit through the back of the tent. The group hurried through it, listening for shouting in the alien tongue.

Kasuf lead the team beyond the perimeter of the camp and turned left. Maybourne moved next to Catherine and whispered, "The pyramid is in the other direction."

"Ra said he'd been there," the archeologist answered, "That's where he got that equipment."

Maybourne nodded and reached for his radio. "Wait," Catherine whispered hoarsely, pulling down on that arm, "Ra knew about the radios."

The moonlight was too dim for anyone to see Maybourne's grimace at this news, but Catherine saw him nod. When she released his arm, he triggered his radio and spoke quickly, "Bogies are hostile; we took six out. The base camp is compromised, transmissions may be monitored. Recommend radio silence, over and out." There was no answer, but shouting arose from inside the mining camp. "Stay here," Maybourne whispered to the archeologists, setting Skaara down in the sand.

"Think we've outdone Indiana yet?" Daniel asked Catherine, rubbing his neck.

Catherine snorted at the younger doctor's comment and asked, "What did you do to your neck?"

"I think it's a cut from being drug by the animal earlier," he answered, "It must have re-opened in the fighting."

Maybourne and Pasteur, meanwhile, had crawled up a dune to look into the camp. Animal-headed silhouettes could be seen in the lighted tent. "Those heads have to be part of their armor," Pasteur commented, "They looked like the same metal as the rest of the outfit." The figures exited the tent carrying a litter. "Sir?" Pasteur asked as he took aim at one of the Jaffa not carrying the litter.

"Go ahead," Maybourne answered, preparing to provide cover fire if needed. Pasteur fired a single shot, and the Jaffa he'd targeted went down. Another one shouted, and the two carrying the litter started sprinting, accompanied by a third Jaffa. The other two readied their staves and crouched, looking for the direction of the attack. Pasteur took aim again and fired, but this time the bullet ricocheted off of its target's armor.

The Jaffa spotted the flash of the riffle and began returning fire. The sand shook as the blasts hit the opposite side of the dune, and Maybourne crawled sideways before popping up to fire a burst of bullets at the Jaffa and dropping down again. He and Pasteur alternated in this tactic several times before taking down both Jaffa. As the two soldiers crawled back to their civilians, Maybourne risked using his radio again, "Major, you've got three headed your way. Over and out"

* * *

Major Carter had put little hope in Catherine's statement about the friendliness of the aliens. If Ra was still posing as a god and forcing labor from Kasuf's people, she doubted he'd changed since being kicked off Earth. She did, however, want to examine his technology, and so she went to the crescent-ships which the aliens had landed in two columns of three ships each. She circled the landing area with her MP5 ready, but found no guards and approached the nearest vessel. It was clearly not designed to fly using lift, but Samantha guessed that the wings provided stability in atmospheric flight. There were two engines near the center of the ship, which reduced stress on the wings but meant that an engine fire or explosion would most likely kill the pilots. Two cannons were placed on the wings, far enough away from the cockpit that the muzzle-flash would not blind the pilots.

The major climbed up the wing of the craft and saw two seats in the cockpit. This confirmed that the twelve figures she'd seen were all of the occupants of the gliders. The two seats each had a console of some kind, and Samantha lowered herself into the back seat to examine its console. A graphic display illuminated when she sat; it showed the area in front of and below the glider. A single button lit up, and Samantha touched it. The cannons on either wing made a sizzling sound, and the major could see that they had opened. At the same time, red buttons on each side of the screen lit up. Samantha pressed the one on the right, and the right cannon fired a burst of light. "Gunner's seat," the major said to herself, "computer shows the area out of view." She nodded, glancing at the display for other buttons to try, but found none.

The front seat took a bit more figuring out. In addition to the forward-and-downward view identical to that of the back seat, this display had several components with labels in the alien language. Samantha guessed that they included fuel, temperature, heat, and altitude gauges, but she wasn't sure how to tell which one indicated what, and she had no idea what two of the panels were saying. There were no foot controls, but a small glowing sphere presented itself where she might expect a centre stick in many Earth aircraft. She placed her hands on either side of the ball. The engines hummed to life, and a metal-and-glass canopy closed over the cockpit. The major jerked her hands away from the ball, but the engines did not shut down and the canopy remained shut. After experimenting with a few buttons, she found one that shut down the engines and another that opened the canopy.

Satisfied that she would be able to get out, she placed her hands on the sphere again and waited for the engines to power up again. Once their hum was steady, she pushed forward on the ball, and the craft taxied forward. She tried turning the ball to no result, but when she first pushed forward and then turned, the ship turned as it taxied.

Samantha's experimentations were interrupted when Maybourne's voice came over her radio: "Bogies are hostile; we took six out. The base camp is compromised, transmissions may be monitored. Recommend radio silence, over and out."

The major heeded the recommendation and did not answer. Her subordinate had included the information he thought was necessary, and she would have to wait for the details. She found little else to do, however, as he did not call for backup. She considered the situation: the base camp eliminated without getting even a single call for help. That meant that Green, O'Brian, Kawalsky, and Harris had all been killed or captured. If Freeman had gotten his group back to the pyramid before the attack, then he, Jones, and Johnson were in the same boat.

That meant she had two airmen, two civilians, and herself against God only knew what. She looked up through the canopy at the stars she'd considered comforting earlier, wondering if Sol was among the visible ones. Another message broke through her dark considerations:

"Major, you've got three headed your way. Over and out"

This required action: the major opened her canopy and unwrapped a block of C-4 as she ran to the first glider in the other column. She forced the plastic explosive through the grating which covered one of the engines. If the engine exhaust was hot enough, it would detonate the C-4, hopefully igniting the ship's fuel and creating one big fireball. She lit her final flare and tossed it into the ship behind the one with which she'd experimented, hoping that the thing might do some damage.

A man shouted and several streaks of light flashed over Samantha's head as she dashed back to 'her' glider, and she jumped into the front seat, grabbing the control sphere and pushing forward as hard as she could before the canopy had even finished closing. The engines roared and the craft sprung forward, clipping a sand dune with its wingtips before gaining altitude. She wheeled the ship around, wondering if there was a way to fire the cannons from the front seat, but she saw the bogies entering the gliders that had been behind hers.

"So much for sabotage," the major muttered, figuring out how to fire but missing with the few blasts that she managed shoot before she'd over flown the landed craft. By the time she'd banked, there were two bogies in the air. She fired again, but her shots again went wide. One of the bogies headed toward the pyramid, and she tailed him, holding down the firing button.

The bogie zigged and zagged to avoid her shots; its pilot experienced enough to know that flying in a straight line was virtually suicidal in combat. Major Carter's attention was pulled to the other bogie when several shots flashed past her own canopy. She broke off pursuit of the first bogie to engage the second, trying a loop and then an Immelmann turn to get behind the other craft, but the other pilot trailed too closely for these maneuvers to work. She began another Immelmann, and again the other pilot avoided, but she dove and looped again, turning the maneuver into a Cuban Eight and firing. "Yes!" she shouted as the glider became a fireball and crashed into the sand. She turned toward the pyramid and pushed the thrust to maximum, hoping to catch up with the remaining glider. It had a strong lead by this time, and was climbing slightly. The major gasped when she saw it approach the pyramid-ship she'd seen earlier, which was now in the atmosphere but climbing.

Beams of light shot out from the pyramid-ship, different from the glider-shot but, Samantha assumed, equally deadly.

Samantha dove, zigging and zagging much as the bogie had done earlier. The pyramid-ship continued to fire, and Samantha leveled her glider as it came within a few meters of the obelisks reversing thrust to slow down and dodging between the giant spires. One of the beams hit an obelisk, and the stone jerked and fell, clipping her wing as it did so. The fighter spun, and Samantha fought to regain control, leveling the craft before it skipped across the sand, losing the ends of its wings before finally coming to a halt.

"This thing must have awesome inertial dampeners," the major said as she pressed the canopy release, and she climbed out through the front of the cockpit before the thing had finished folding into its compartment. She sprinted from the wreckage, both because that was where any enemy searches would look for her and because she didn't know if the thing was likely to explode. The major slipped in the sand and fell, but kept crawling forward as she spit out the sand she'd gotten into her mouth.

Once the major reached the crest of a dune, she swung herself over and sat in the sand, catching her breath. If the glider did explode, she hoped that the sand would shelter her from the blast, and in any case she was on the shadowed side of the dune, gave her some cover from enemy eyes. Major Carter watched the pyramid-ship shrink as it ascended and considered her mission, wondering if she should turn to General West's other objective.

'If Ra knows that we've unburied the Stargate on Earth,' she thought, 'then he may send troops through for revenge and re-conquest. Detonating the bomb will destroy the pyramid and hopefully destroy the Stargate, cutting him off from Earth. But we won't have any means of escape.' Carter paused, biting her lower lip. Even though she wouldn't think about it, she knew the blast would certainly kill her at this range.

She thought about the glider she'd flown, about its advanced weapons and inertial dampeners, and about the skill of the pilot she'd engaged. Then she thought about how easily the mothership had destroyed the obelisk. Against that, the militaries of Earth would be out-gunned. The risk to Earth was too great, and her team was expendable. She was expendable.

Samantha took the detonator out of her pocket. She pulled her dog tags out of her uniform, undid the clasp and removed a small key before returning the tags to her neck. By feel, she inserted the key into the detonator and turned it. A single row of red numerals lit up, flashing at 0000. No time delay had been entered. She looked up at the stars and whispered, "O God, be merciful to me, a sinner."

She closed her eyes and pushed the detonate button.

After several seconds, she re-opened her eyes and looked toward the pyramid. Conventional wisdom said that after you trigger an explosive, if it doesn't go off right away, you don't move closer to see what the problem is. However, the major thought that her situation was about as unconventional as possible, and she knew that a few hundred meters wouldn't make any difference to a nuclear explosion. She crawled toward the entrance to the pyramid, keeping to the moon-shadows.

The steps were thrown into dark contrast as the moon continued to rise, so she crawled up the still-shadowed sand parallel to the stones. The obelisk that had been shot now lay across the steps, and going around it would require entering the light. Instead, she decided to go under it through a small gap where the sand dipped as it pulled away from the steps. Holding her rifle in front of her, she dropped to her belly, ducked her head, and pushed herself under the stone. Once her legs were under the stone, she didn't have room to bend her knees and had to propel herself by "walking" forward with her elbows, sending quite a bit on sand back into her face and down her neck. She finally got her head out from under the stone and started to lift her head, only to find a small cold something pressing into her neck.

"Don't move, and don't try to yell," a man's voice said softly.

Samantha didn't move, not even to nod in acknowledge the order, and searched her memory, trying to identify the voice. After twenty seconds, she said, "Green?"

"Major?" the man's voice answered, surprised.

"Yeah," Carter answered. After a pause, she asked, "Are you going to shoot me?"

"No Ma'am," the man answered, removing the muzzle from her neck. Hands grabbed her arms and pulled her the rest of the way out from under the obelisk, but they kept to the shadows, and Carter had trouble making out more than that there were three men wearing BDUs and combat vests. "Airman First Class Jones, Ma'am."

"Where are the others?" the major asked.

"Dead," Jones answered, "We'd returned to the pyramid like you ordered. The LT" he pronounced the letters of the abbreviation, "had Airman Johnson and me relieve Green and O'Brian at the door, and they went with him to get dinner ready in the room we were using as our camp. There was a flash of light in that room, and I thought that maybe somebody was trying to use C-4 to cook with. Then they started shooting. We tried to radio Kawalsky and Harris up on the pyramid, this was all just after you'd fired that flare, Ma'am, but got no response. We fired a couple shots outside so those two would know something was up and then ran to the camp room. A couple of these big-headed aliens pinned us with ray-guns in the hallway. There wasn't a lot of cover, and we couldn't advance without getting shot. Freeman shouted an order for us to retreat, and we did."

"When we heard them shooting," Harris said, "Lieutenant Kawalsky decided we should get down and provide support. We started rappelling down, but then the wind picked up and there were these lights above us. It was hard to see with all the sand blowing around, but we realized that that . . . thing was landing on the pyramid. I pulled the release and slid down the side: I think I sprained an ankle on the landing. I don't think Lieutenant Kawalsky got his carabiner open. I," Harris' voice trembled, "I haven't seen him since I hit the sand."

Jones picked up the narration again, "We found Harris when we retreated. Our radios were dead; we figured they were jamming us. We didn't realize that they were working again till Maybourne radioed recommending radio silence. When the pyramid lifted off again, we figured we should check it out. On our way up we saw the fighters come: I take it you were in the one that crashed," Jones finished.

"And you haven't seen any signs of life from the pyramid?" Carter confirmed.

"No Ma'am. Not since that thing took off."

"How're you for ammo?" she asked.

"I used up both clips for my primary," Jones answered, "but I'm still on the first beretta clip."

"My MP5 was in the camp room," Harris answered, "I haven't fired my sidearm yet."

"I still have some shots left in my second clip, Ma'am," Johnson said, "I'd guess about half."

The major took her own second clip of MP5 ammunition and handed it to Jones. "That's full," she said, "The only thing I've fired is the cannons on those fighters." She paused, shifted her MP5, and said, "Let's go."

* * *

A/N: Sorry about the cliffhanger. This was definitely the most action-packed chapter, and the one I found most difficult to write. I need you to tell me how I did: Did things make sense? Did I bore you with too much description? Did the characterizations seem logical/true to the cannon?

Don't worry too much about being nice in reviews, but please be constructive in criticisms.


	4. Into the Sun

Major Carter hugged the right hand wall as she advanced down the hallway in a crouch. The aliens had managed to light fires in a series of waist-high alcoves along the hallway. It wasn't bright, but it was brighter than the flares that her team had relied upon for illumination. She gestured to her men to stay low as they passed the first light. Standing tall would have two disadvantages: it would make sure that any guards further down the hall saw them, and it would compromise their own ability to see in the dark.

In reality, she was far more concerned with holding onto the latter advantage, as she was pretty sure any guards would be able to hear their boots on the stone floor. The team moved slowly along the hall, Jones on Carter's flank and Johnson and Harris following them. Carter stopped after every other light, sure that she would hear the soldiers that had taken over the pyramid, but each time she heard only the breathing of her team.

Eventually, they came to the camp room. As they reached the doorway, Carter held up her fist, signaling the team to stop. She held up two fingers and pointed to the left, signaling Jones and Johnson to go in that direction. She pointed to Harris and then to herself, telling the injured airman to follow her. Finally she stepped forward, swept her firearm to the right to check for guards, and then faced forward again as she sidestepped to the right edge of the room. This way she could see down the rows between the room's pillars. Harris followed her, albeit more clumsily, and Jones and Johnson mirrored her actions, moving to the left.

They paused, both relieved to find no combatants and disappointed to see that none of their camp supplies remained. Carter signaled her men to stay put, each looking (and aiming) down and different row, as she turned and advanced, still sidestepping but more slowly this time, checking each perpendicular row for enemies hiding from her men by staying behind the pillars. She reached the fall wall without seeing anything but stone walls, stone floor, and stone pillars.

"Clear," the major whispered loudly enough for her team to hear. She hoped that the echoes were just her imagination. The men advanced, and regrouped in front of the hallway leading to the stargate. This hallway also had lights burning, and the team slinked along with the same procedure.

They encountered nothing until they reached the gateroom, where Carter could make out two animal-headed aliens standing by the dialing-podium. The major signaled her team to stop. Only one of the soldiers was facing the doorway; the other was watching the gate. Neither reacted, and Carter dropped to her belly, inching forward until she was far enough through the door to line up a shot at the soldier facing the doorway. She opened fire for a second, but then her rifle jammed. Jones, fortunately, had already dropped to one knee in the doorway and started firing.

The Jaffa facing the doorway fell under the barrage, but his companion lasted long enough to turn around and fire, hitting Jones in the shoulder. The concussive force of the blast threw the airman back into the wall. Johnson lunged forward, taking Jones' place in the doorway and firing his rifle at the Jaffa. Carter also brought her sidearm to bear, and the second Jaffa finally dropped.

Carter stood and stepped into the room, sweeping her sidearm across it but seeing no other threats. She returned her attention to Jones, who was unconscious. She was glad to see that the wound was high on the man's shoulder: he would hurt and loose mobility, but it shouldn't have hit anything vital. She touched the wound experimentally and jerked her hand back. "The Kevlar's burning!" she told Harris, "Get the buckles." She fumbled for the zipper pull, finding it after a few seconds and jerking it down. She pulled the vest off of Jones' right arm, glad he wasn't awake to feel the pain, while Harris took care of the left arm. Harris lifted Jones' torso a couple inches off of the ground, and Carter jerked the vest out from under him. She let go and allowed momentum to carry the now-useless armor into the gate room.

"Thank you," Carter glanced up at Airman Harris before taking out a pocket knife and using the scissors to cut off Jones' shirt.

"Any time, Ma'am," Harris answered, "Any time"

Jones had burns from the vest over his upper chest and right side, and a more severe burn where the blast had actually hit. There was swelling developing on the back of his head from its impact with the wall. Samantha felt along his neck and found no injuries. "It should be safe to move him," she said, grabbing his ankles, "Be gentle with his right side."

Samantha and Harris carried the airman, who was beginning to groan, into the gateroom and set him down in a better-lit area. Samantha then continued her investigation. The shoulder wound appeared to have cauterized itself, so she didn't have bleeding to worry about. "It would be nice if we had some clean bandages," she remarked to herself, looking at the corner where they had left the F.R.E.D. She wondered if dressing the wound with Jones' shirt would be better than leaving it exposed, but those thoughts were interrupted by a whirring sound from the camp room.

The three conscious people froze for a second before reacting; Carter guessed what the other two remembered, that that sound went along with the arrival of alien soldiers. "Harris," the major pointed at the dialing podium, which would give more cover than anything else in the room. She drug Jones along the wall with the doorway, knowing that anyone attacking wouldn't be able to see that corner until entering the room. Johnson moved to the corner opposite her and pointed his rifle up and towards the doorway. Carter picked up Jones' rifle and did the same. This way, anyone entering would be caught in crossfire, but Carter and Johnson wouldn't actually be shooting at each other. If there were no ricochets, the major figured it would work pretty well. Realistically, she knew that ricochets would happen in an enclosed stone space, but there was no better option.

Someone moved slowly down the hall. At first Carter thought she was imagining a rasp as cloth drug against the stone. She would be sure she heard it, but then she would hear nothing besides Jones' groans as he slowly returned to awareness. Over time, however, the rasping became more pronounced, until Carter was sure it was coming from just outside the doorway. Then there was nothing. Even Jones was quiet, apparently sensing the tension in the room.

Every second drug on in that silence, and Carter fought the impulse to say something just to break the silence. Finally, a figure stepped through the doorway with arms extended down and to each side, pointing weapons at the corners and their occupants. The man glanced to either side, and Carter thought he looked a bit surprised, but she was in turn surprised to see his eyes flash and hear a strangely deep voice say, "Lower your weapons."

"Harris," Carter answered, and the airman popped up from behind the dialing device, pointing his berretta at the man. "Now," the major continued, "Seeing as you'd certainly not survive a shootout, how about you drop your weapons and raise your arms slowly." It wasn't a question.

The man did not answer immediately; instead, he surveyed the room before asking, "Did you kill these Jaffa?"

"The soldiers?" Carter answered, "Yeah, which should assure you of our capabilities and resolve."

"The Jaffa serve my enemies," the deep voice said, "I have no love for them." The man lowered his arms and dropped the weapons, kicking them forward.

The Johnson answered suspiciously, "That's a funny one, seeing as you arrived the same way they did."

"I am Lantash, of the Tok'athor," the man answered, "My mission was to assassinate Ra. I attempted to do this three days ago and failed. When he learned of my true loyalties, he ordered my arrest. I've been evading security patrols since then."

"Major Samantha Carter, United States Air Force," Samantha answered the man's introduction, "Why, exactly, did you want Ra dead?"

The Tok'athor looked at Samantha rather startled and answered, "Ra poses as a god and forces billions of humans and Jaffa to worship him. He, like all the Goa'uld," this word held extra contempt, "take humans hosts against their will. The very purpose of the Tok'athor is to destroy the Goa'uld and end their evil ways."

Further conversation was interrupted by the whirring of the rings. Everyone tensed, and Harris picked up one of Lantash's weapons, offering it to the Tok'athor. "That's all right," Lantash answered, pressing a finger-ring which expanded and glowed.

The group waited for several minutes but heard nothing. Eventually Lantash stuck out his head to look down the hallway. He said, "There is one figure, moving toward the pyramid exit. He is no Jaffa."

Carter accepted this and joined the man. He looked human, but she remembered the one human-headed figure that she had seen leaving the gliders earlier that evening. "I think that we should see who it is," she said. Lantash didn't object, so she continued, "Harris, stay with Jones. Johnson, you're with us."

Carter set out at a jog down the hallway, and Lantash followed with Johnson taking up the rear. She planned to slow to a walk when they neared the figure, who was now rather near the exit end of the passage, but those plans changed when the group again heard the whirring of the rings. The major sprinted the last ten meters into the camp room and saw a stack of floating rings in the middle of the room. She braced herself against one of the pillars, leaning so that only her arm, head, and rifle (well, Jones' rifle) were visible from the center of the room where a light now flashed from the rings. The rings whirred back into the ceiling, leaving four of the animal-headed Jaffa. Carter opened fire and heard Johnson doing the same, but she had to retreat fully behind the pillar when one of the Jaffa realized where she was and fired his staff-weapon at her. Johnson continued to fire for a couple seconds before also retreating, but then Samantha heard a shorter discharge sound and a beam of red light shot out from the center of the room, striking the wall in front of her and showering her with debris.

In the seconds after this blast, one of the Jaffa shouted and a staff discharged several times, but since it wasn't coming toward her, the major figured that she could risk a look around the pillar. She saw that only one of the Jaffa was still standing, and she opened fire on him. He jerked around as the bullets hit him, and then another red beam passed through him and struck the ceiling, again causing a shower of stone pebbles to rain down.

"The Jaffa have been neutralized," Lantash's deep voice said.

"That ray-gun of yours is pretty powerful," Johnson remarked as he joined Lantash in pulling the Jaffa bodies from the ring area. "Do the bad guys have those things?"

"Yes," Lantash answered, "I was working as a covert agent, so any non-Goa'uld technology would compromise my cover."

"If they have those things," Johnson pointed to the ring, "Why do they bother with the staffs?"

"Staves are weapons of intimidation and terror, intended to keep slaves fearful. A single staff will generally last longer than its bearer. The ring device is a weapon of assassination. It is meant not to be noticed until it delivers the fatal shot. Its size limits the space for a power supply, and it is exhausted after only a few dozen shots. Also, there is a risk of accidental overload, which will kill the bearer." Lantash deactivated the ring and picked up something from the forearm of a Jaffa corpse. Samantha recognized it as matching the weapons he'd left with Harris.

"Not prone to overload?" she speculated.

"No," he confirmed, holding up the gun for her to see, "The zat'ni'katel is not." He gestured down the hallway with the weapon, "Shall we continue our pursuit?"

Samantha smiled at the man and answered, "We shall." She walked down the hallway, still briskly but with more caution, wondering if more enemies would appear from the rings. None did, however, and the two Tau'ri and one Tok'athor made it to the exit doorway. The moon was apparently much higher now, as the dunes cast smaller shadows than they had earlier, but the portico roof kept the entryway in darkness.

A figure sat on the stone floor of the portico leaning back against the wall. He had a staff weapon across his knees, but his hands drooped to either side. He did not respond to the arrival of his pursuers, and Samantha wondered if he was asleep. Lantash left little time for wonder: he bent and grabbed the staff, rotating it to face the figure and arming it, causing its foresection to split into four quadrants and fizzle with energy. He prodded the figure under the chin with the weapon and demanded, "Identify yourself!"

The figure's head jerked up, and he answered in a panicked voice, "William Freeman, Lieutenant First-Class, Serial Number 555-43-9819. William Freeman, Lieutenant First Class, Serial Number 555-43-9819. William Freeman—"

Carter cut him off, kneeling in front of him and pushing the business-end of the staff to the side. "Lieutenant, calm down: you're safe."

Freeman's attention snapped to Samantha. "Maj . . . Major Carter?" he stuttered, "Did they get you too?"

Samantha shook her head, "No, it's okay. We killed the alien soldiers." Freeman glanced at Lantash, and the major added, "This is Lantash of the Tok'athor. He's helping us."

"Greetings," Lantash said, and Freeman flinched.

"He sounds like Ra," the lieutenant said, and the Tok'athor bowed his head.

Carter looked up at the alien, wondering if she'd been too quick to trust him. He had killed those Jaffa, though, so she waited for an explanation.

"We were once one people, united under the Empress Hathor," a baritone voice said.

"Wait," Carter interrupted, "Why did your voice just change?"

The Tok'athor sighed: "I am Martouf, the human host to Lantash. Because of William Freeman's reaction to Lantash's voice, we decided that it would be . . . more comfortable . . . for him if I explained this."

"Human host?" Johnson asked, feeling a bit creeped out.

"This will take a long time if I am constantly interrupted," Martouf told the humans, "And my narrative will most likely answer many of the questions." He paused, waiting for Carter and Johnson to nod. Apparently he wasn't worried about Freeman interrupting, and when Carter considered the fear still on her 2IC's face, she supposed that he had little with which to be concerned.

Satisfied that they would save their questions, Martouf continued, "The Goa'uld are naturally a parasitic race who possess a host by tying into the host's central nervous and endocrine systems. They evolved on a planet which had a sentient bipedial race we call the first ones. For centuries conflict was bloody as Goa'uld groups fought free tribes of first ones, and factions of each group fought among one another. Eventually, a Goa'uld discovered the use of the Chappa'ai, an artifact from an even more ancient race. Many Goa'uld left the first world and spread to other planets, establishing rivalries and alliances as they developed. They absorbed technology from other races as well as occasionally making their own advancements, but eventually a plague decimated the first ones' population, including current hosts. One Goa'uld queen, Hathor, discovered a young world with a race of potential hosts unsusceptible to the plague. She used technology to impersonate a deity of that world and enslaved thousands, using many as hosts for her children, who in turn impersonated other deities.

"Hathor kept this world secret from her rivals, allowing them to die of the plague before she brought humans from Earth to worlds such as this one. She also profited from discovering a way to modify humans to serve as incubators for immature Goa'uld. These modified humans are now known as Jaffa, the warrior-slaves of the Goa'uld." Martouf paused and bowed his head for several seconds before continuing, "Lantash thinks I'm going too slowly, so I'll skip ahead a bit. Hathor proclaimed herself Empress over all Goa'uld and established a hierarchy of Goa'uld under her. One of these under-queens, Egeria, grew to sympathize with the human slaves. She felt that impersonating deities was wrong and eventually concluded that taking any sentient host against its will is wrong. She revolted against Hathor and created both our movement and a faction among the humans which desired its own freedom. This faction eventually succeeded in driving the Goa'uld off of the human homeworld. Our movement left with them, learning in the first few centuries of our existence that impersonation and stealth were more effective than direct confrontation."

Martouf bowed his head, and Lantash addressed Freeman in his characteristically deep voice, "William Freeman, I am deeply grieved by your treatment at the hands of Ra. I am," he paused, "more familiar with what you have endured than I would like to be. My mission was in fact the assassination of this false god, and I apologize for failing in this mission and allowing you to fall into his hands."

Freeman smiled weakly and said, "Hey, you got him eventually."

Lantash shook his head: "In fact I fled when my identity was revealed. Eventually another will be sent to complete the mission."

Freeman looked confused. "That was how I escaped," the lieutenant said, "Ra tortured me for a while, and then he handed me over to one of those . . . Jaffa? The Jaffa kept working me over, but then someone came and said that Ra had been betrayed and killed. The Jaffa left shouting; I guess he figured that I was too weak to run away."

"Maybourne said that they'd killed some of the bogies that landed by the mines," Carter offered.

"It will do no good!" Lantash protested, but then he bowed his head and Martouf continued, "We are glad for your escape, William Freeman. What Lantash means is that the Goa'uld possess a device capable of repairing fatal injuries and even reviving the dead. If Ra's body was not destroyed, killing him will not change anything."

"Martouf, if we could get our hands on this technology," Carter said, but the Tok'athor interrupted her.

"No," Lantash said, "The device steals the good out of the person using it. We believe that its habitual use is a major factor in the evil of the Goa'uld."

"We have a bigger problem to worry about," Freeman said, strengthened by his rest, "Ra showed me something he found in the stuff he took from our camp. He was gloating about how he'd send it back to our world. I think it was a nuke, Ma'am." The lieutenant looked at Carter for confirmation, and the other two men looked at her with their own questions.

"You're right," the major sighed, "If I determined that this world posed a risk to Earth, my orders were to detonate the bomb and destroy the stargate."

"What about us?" Johnson asked.

"I'd try to get everyone back to Earth and leave the bomb on a timer, if it were possible."

"Excuse me," Martouf asked, "But what is this 'nuke'?"

"An explosive," Carter answered, "Based on the atomic fission of its contents."

"Ra said he'd made it even more powerful," Freeman added.

"Most likely by adding naquadah ore," Martouf explained. "He could easily have increased the yield of your 'nuke' sufficiently to destroy a continent."

"Like I said," Freeman repeated, "a bigger problem."

"Lieutenant," Carter asked, "Was the nuke armed?"

"Ma'am?" Freeman asked.

"There was a cylinder with a sphere on one side and either a firing charge or a hole where a firing charge could be inserted. Which was it?"

"Firing charge," Freeman said, "I remember it stuck out a little."

"Armed," Carter commented, "It's too bad the remote isn't working."

"Remote?" Lantash asked.

The major opened her vest pocket and showed the small device to the three men, "It sends a radio signal that will run a current through the firing charge, just like if the timer ran out. The explosive in the charge detonates, propelling a heavy uranium slug into a larger uranium ball at the other end of the cylinder. When the slug hits the ball, the uranium reaches critical mass and explodes."

"How do you know that it isn't working, Ma'am?" Johnson asked suspiciously.

"I tried it after I crashed," the major answered reluctantly.

"You would have killed us all!" Johnson's face registered anger and betrayal.

"Airman, if I felt that it was necessary to protect the U.S.," Carter nodded to emphasize her words, "Yes, I would."

"Ma'am, that's . . ." Johnson shook his head, at a loss for words. They lapsed into a tense silence, Johnson staring resentfully at his commanding officer.

It was Martouf who broke the silence. "The transmitter may still be functional," he said.

"Martouf, I tried it," Carter argued, but he put up a hand to forestall her.

"Goa'uld Ha'tak have defensive shields designed to protect the vessels from both projectile and energy weapons. A radio transmission might fall among the wavelengths blocked by these shields."

"What if the transmitter was on the ship?" Carter asked quickly.

"It should succeed," Martouf answered, "The shields are designed only to protect against exterior attack."

"And if the bomb goes off inside of the shields . . ." the major prodded

"The shields would be useless, and the ship itself would be severely damaged or, considering Ra's enhancement of its yield, destroyed entirely," Lantash spoke now, excitedly, "And Ra would leave no corpse to revive."

"What about the others," Johnson said, "Green and O'Brian? They're still up there."

Samantha thought for a minute. The threat to Earth hadn't gone away since she tried to use the bomb earlier that evening, but the decision to let her people die was strangely harder because she wasn't going to die with them.

Freeman hesitated but eventually said, "They aren't up there, Ma'am. I was stunned, but the others were killed with those . . . things." The lieutenant gestured to the staff weapon that Lantash was holding, "I didn't understand it, because they were already dead, but Ra destroyed their bodies. I guess he wanted me to see that they'd never be revived."

Martouf filled in more details for Samantha's benefit: "A single hit by the zat'ni'katel will stun a human, Jaffa, or Goa'uld. A second hit will kill, and a third will disintegrate the corpse. That was how I had intended to ensure Ra would stay dead if I assassinated him."

Samantha smiled, the decision was easy now. "Those ring transporters go both ways, right?" she asked.

"Yes," Lantash answered simply.

"Johnson, stay with Freeman," the major ordered as she and Lantash ran through the door and down the hall. "I'll set the detonator to have a five second delay," she told the Tok'athor as they approached the camp room, "That should give it time to rematerialize before it goes off."

When they reached the center of the camp room, Lantash grabbed the arm of one of the Jaffa corpses and said, "Put the remote in the middle and then get clear."

Carter nodded and started the countdown, tossing the transmitter into the circle and stepping back quickly. Lantash pressed a button on the Jaffa's wrist-armor, and the rings whirred down from the ceiling. They flashed, and then flew up again, leaving nothing where the transmitter had been.

Carter held her breath, hoping the plan would work. She looked at her companion: the five seconds were over. Finally Johnson's voice crackled over the radio, "Ma'am, we have one heck of a fireworks show out here. Over"

"Yes!" Samantha smiled and hugged Martouf tightly, "We did it."

Martouf wrapped his arms around the woman and answered, "Yes, Samantha, we did."

* * *

Samantha adjusted her robe to remove a rather uncomfortable fold. She had radioed Maybourne that Ra was neutralized and then slept for an hour before the Abydonians showed up on mastages to bring the slayers of Ra back to the city. She would rather have slept, but the locals were experiencing a euphoria that rapidly caught Carter and the others in its arms. The celebration had gone well past sunrise that night. Then, most people had slept for the following day. Even though Ra had been a 'kind' god, the quotas he set for naquadah mining had strained the society for generations, and the removal of those quotas meant that the populace was now free to do things like have holidays.

That evening, celebrations had begun anew, and they had lasted well into the night but mostly calmed down an hour before sunrise. As others departed to sleep, Martouf had invited the major to go for a walk, and she had agreed. He had used that hour to explain much more of the history of the Goa'uld and Tok'athor, their technology, and their strategies. Finally they had sat down on a dune facing Abydos' east to watch the sunrise.

And so, Major Carter attempted to remove the uncomfortable fold in her robes.

"Something the matter?" Martouf asked.

"Just getting used to the garb," Samantha answered. Neither person spoke for several minutes, content to watch the sun rise. "In Colorado," Carter said, "that's the part of Earth where we have the Stargate, there are plains to the east and mountains to the west. The sunrises are still nice, but the sunsets are amazing. There's one peak that the sun goes down behind just twice a year, in the Spring and in the Fall."

"It sounds beautiful," Martouf put his arm around Samantha's shoulders.

"You would love it," the woman answered.

Martouf laughed: "Your Airman Maybourne suggested that you might try to seduce me."

"He did!" the major turned to Martouf indignantly.

"I don't think he realized how sensitive a host's hearing becomes. He intended the words for Pasteur only."

"Still, that isn't an appropriate thing to say about a superior officer," Samantha said nothing for a while, but then she turned to her companion again and asked, "Is it working?"

"I cannot come to your world, Samantha Carter." Lantash sighed, "As tempting as it is to visit the homeworld of humanity and the birthplace of the Tok'athor, I cannot."

"It wouldn't mean giving up the war against the Goa'uld," Carter argued, "I think my government can be convinced that the technological benefits of a long-term Stargate program outweigh the costs, and an informed guide would make our program far more successful."

"I do hope that the Tau'ri will become allies of the Tok'athor in the war against the Goa'uld," Martouf said, "But if I went with you, then Rosha would be furious about my seduction."

"Rosha?"

"My mate for more than the past century: she has eyes as blue as the oceans of Marloon and hair the color of the sands," Martouf gestured to the desert stretching out before them.

* * *

Skaara took the thermometer out of his mouth and argued. Catherine held his wrist and guided the glass stick back into his mouth. She knew that he was easily strong enough to stop her, but he was only putting up a token resistance.

"Something wrong?" Carter asked, coming into the tent from her walk and sitting on one of the circular pillows scattered around the tent floor.

"He says that he isn't sick anymore," Catherine explained, "And shouldn't be coddled."

Samantha smiled at the adolescent and placed one hand under his chin. The swelling in his lymph nodes had disappeared completely, but she wasn't sure if there was a risk of symptoms resurging. Skaara turned his head to the right, away from Carter's hand, but kept his eyes on the woman.

Catherine started to say something in Egyptian, but Samantha interrupted her, "Skaara's going to cooperate now, aren't you."

The boy recognized his name in the English sentence and blushed, taking his eyes off of the major but otherwise holding still. Samantha waited in that position until Catherine looked up from her watch and said, "Time."

Carter took her hand from Skaara's neck and pulled the thermometer from the boy's mouth, showing it to Catherine and saying, "Ninety-nine degrees Fahrenheit: within normal limits. Dr. Langford, I'd say he's recovered."

Catherine translated this, and Skaara answered sullenly while leaving the tent. "Roughly translated: I told you so," Catherine told the major.

Carter laughed and checked on Jones. The equipment that Ra's Jaffa had left behind after Kasuf had killed the 'god' included some of the Tau'ri medical supplies, and Samantha had found enough bandages to cover the man's burns. She checked the dressings and decided that they should be good until the afternoon.

Freeman had also been given a bed in the designated infirmary-tent, but his problems were not ones that Carter's first aid training had addressed. He said he wanted to stay away from crowds, and this seemed like a good way to do that.

"You know," Catherine said when Samantha headed toward the exit, "I think that was a bit of overkill."

"What do you mean?" Carter asked.

"Come on, Samantha," the archeologist answered, "You're a beautiful woman; Skaara's a teenage boy. You had him at a major disadvantage."

"The heat's gotten to you. I'm going to bed."

The major left, ignoring any response and turning toward the large tent in which Team Giza was barracking. She was shocked by what she saw inside and wondered briefly if the heat wasn't making her imagine things. Daniel was holding a staff weapon and aiming it at Martouf's sleeping form.

"Doctor Jackson!" she barked, and the man spun to face her. He smiled and his eyes flashed, but his expression changed to shock when blue lightening enveloped him.

"Quickly! Restrain him!" Martouf ordered. Most of the men looked around, confused and sleepy, but Maybourne stood, keeping a zat'ni'katel trained on the archeologist.

Johnson found an extra loop of tent cord and looked to the major for confirmation before following the Tok'athor's order. Carter nodded, and the airman tied Daniel's hands behind his back.

"Major?" Daniel asked, "What's going on?"

"I'm not sure yet, Dr. Jackson," the major answered, looking at Martouf and Maybourne for an explanation.

"When we searched the Jaffa corpses at the mine yesterday, I realized that one of the Jaffa had no symbiote," Martouf said.

"We figured that it had jumped into one of our people," Maybourne elaborated. "I knew it wasn't me, and apparently Tok'athor can sense that sort of thing."

"Because the symbiote is not yet mature, it cannot completely dominate its host," Lantash added, "But at times when the host is less aware, such as during sleep, the Goa'uld would take over."

"Since Marty told us that normal Goa'uld hate his kind so much, I figured that this would be a pretty good way to figure out who the snake-head was," Maybourne finished.

"And you didn't tell me this because . . ."

"Well, Ma'am," Maybourne hemmed.

"Harry's plan depended on secrecy," Martouf explained, "and the best way to preserve a secret is by not telling anyone."

The major kept emotion out of her face and voice. She'd speak with Maybourne about this, but not in front of the whole team. With the casualties they'd suffered, Maybourne was essentially acting as her 2IC. "So what comes next in your plan?" she asked the men, glancing at the tied archeologist.

"The Tok'athor are developing a procedure to remove a Goa'uld without killing the host," Lantash answered, "But so far it has succeeded in only twenty percent of the cases. I could bring Dr. Jackson to one of our bases and we would attempt the procedure. If it succeeded, he would be allowed to return to your world."

"I thought you said that no one could visit your bases," Samantha stated.

"Captured Goa'uld are a special case," Lantash said, "but you are correct, no one could come with him."

"Not going to happen," Carter declared, "besides, I'm not sure that I can even make that decision for Daniel. Twenty percent chance of success: those are terrible odds."

"Is it not better than a lifetime of slavery?" Lantash asked, but then he nodded, and Martouf spoke: "I understand. We do not know all the details of the procedure, but the primary difficulty is that the symbiote can release a toxin which kills the host. You must kill and remove the Goa'uld before it has time to do this. In the meantime, there is a risk that the Goa'uld will try to jump into another host. I recommend that he be kept secluded and that two soldiers guard him from a distance of several paces."

The major nodded. "Mr. Maybourne, who's had the most sleep?"

"That'd be Harris and Johnson, Ma'am."

"Alright, boys, get to. Pasteur and Maybourne will relieve you in four hours."

* * *

A/N: I really wanted to finish the fic with this chapter, but I realized that the debrief merits its own entry. I hope to get that written in the next week, but I move back to school tomorrow, so no promises. If anything is unclear/don't make sense, let me know and I'll see about including it in the debrief.


	5. Here They Come

"Lieutenant, I heard that Dr. Fletcher approved your return to duty," Carter said as she sat down in one of the leather chairs. Her team (what was left of it) was assembled for another debrief.

"Yes, Ma'am," Freeman answered, looking skeptical "He thinks I need to have activities beyond the infirmary."

"So scuttlebutt is that they're going to let us go home," Maybourne told the officers, "And the enlisted personnel were thinking that a celebration of the LT's recovery is in order."

"O'Malley's should be done with the renovation by now," Pasteur added.

"No crowds," Freeman answered, and everyone at the table looked at him. "Sorry, I'm just not ready for anything that big yet." The lieutenant hesitated, "I have a barbeque in my back yard, though. Maybe we could fire that up if the weather's nice?"

"That's a good idea, Lieutenant, but we probably shouldn't make plans yet," the Major suggested.

"You mean that they're not letting us out yet!" Pasteur protested, standing up and slamming his palms on the table, "Ma'am, this is ridiculous. We were only gone for a week, and it's already been three since we came back! We're getting stir-crazy sitting around so long!"

"Your objection is noted, Airman," Major Carter said tightly, "But the general will keep us as long as the doctors feel it advisable."

The man read her tone and backed off, sitting down and muttering, "Yes Ma'am."

Further discussion ended when Gen. West entered the room. " 'Tention," Jones called, and the six men and major stood to attention.

"As you were," the General answered, and he took the seat at the head of the table. "At the end of this meeting, you will all be cleared to leave the mountain. The doctors don't believe that there is any significant risk of alien illnesses manifesting after this point. You will have the remainder of the day and tomorrow as post-mission, and then it's the weekend, so you'll have almost four days. Don't leave the state, though, and I want boots polished Monday."

"What's next, Sir?" Maybourne asked, "Are we continuing with Project Giza?"

"The After Action Report is still under review," West answered, "President Kinsey is sending a representative on Monday to examine everything involved. There's a strong possibility you will be sent back to Abydos to retrieve Dr. Langford, and we may eventually decide to contact the Tok'athor if the doctors think it will help get that snake out of Dr. Jackson's head fails. Otherwise, there are currently no plans for further off-world operations. This will probably take a couple more weeks to tie up, and then we'll throw a tarp over the stargate and turn off the lights down here. The SF's up in NORAD will take care of security, and you'll all be reassigned to units suited to our specialties. Plan to PCS around mid-August. If there's nothing else . . ." everyone shook their heads, "Then you're dismissed." The General returned to his office, and the team resumed conversation in the hallway.

"Alright, long weekend!" Pasteur whooped, "Party tomorrow at Freeman's place. I'm making some of grandma's gumbo; undefeated by white boys since Nineteen-twenty-seven."

"I'll pick up the steaks," Maybourne offered, "You have anything in mind, Ma'am?"

"I won't be able to join you," Carter shook her head, "Work to finish."

"Major, you shouldn't work during post-mission," Maybourne argued, "That's a bad habit."

"Special case," Carter answered, "The General held off on death notification until they lifted quarantine. I asked him to let me tell the families, and once the president's representative comes on Monday, I don't think there will be a chance."

* * *

Carter straightened her dress blues, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door. She felt uncomfortable, but this would probably be the least difficult meeting of the trip.

"Come in," a man's voice said, and she entered the office. A middle-aged man was getting up from behind a standard-issue metal desk.

"Captain--" the Major began, but the man forestalled her with a hand wave.

"Abouna Jonathan," he smiled, "I know that it's not technically correct, but there are certain rules that chaplains can bend. I'll be ready in just a minute." He pulled something from his desk and put it into his breast pocket. Then he grabbed a couple books and walked to the door: "All ready."

"Okay," the Major stepped into the hallway, and they walked toward the elevator. "We're flying to Iowa to visit O'Brian's family, and then we go to New York for the others. Hopefully we'll have time to fly home tonight, but we might need to stay over in New York."

The chaplain nodded, "I knew O'Brian, and I met Kawalsky a few times. None of them were married?"

"No," Samantha hesitated and glanced at the man while they entered the elevator, "Abouna."

Jonathon noticed her pause and said, "Abouna is an Aramaic word. It means--"

"Father," Samantha half-smiled, "I know; I grew up Catholic. It's just weird to see a priest clean-shaven."

Abouna Jonathon laughed and rubbed his chin, "That's one of the regs that we don't get to bend."

* * *

It was mid-morning by the time that the airman assigned to drive the notification team to the O'Brian farm turned onto a gravel driveway. "What do you know," the man said, "Corn!"

The passengers chuckled at his sarcasm and waited for him to come to a stop. They got out, put on their hats, and strode up the sidewalk to the door.

"You've never done this before, Major?" Jonathan asked as the approached the door.

"No," Samantha admitted, "I've never needed to."

By then they were at the door, and the Major pressed the bell nervously. A boy opened the door and said, "Hi." The noise of a television was heard from within the house.

"Hello," Jonathan asked, "Is this the O'Brian residence?"

"Yeah," the kid answered with a perplexed expression.

"Sean, who's that at the door?" a man called out from within the house.

"Some people from the Air Force, Grandpa," Sean answered.

The noise from the television ended, and an older man appeared in one of the doorways within the house. "Ask them in, boy," the man ordered. "We're not air-conditioning the whole state!"

"Okay," the kid said, pushing the screen-door out to admit the officers.

"That's a good boy," the man said, "The living room's over here." He led the group into a room with a couple stiff sofas which looked like they saw little use. Samantha noticed that the man's eyes were tight.

"Grandpa, is everything okay?" Sean asked. Apparently he too had noticed the old man's expression.

"Go play outside, I'll come talk to you later," the man said shortly. Once boy was out of ear-shot, he told the officers, "His mother, Rebecca, is running an errand; she'll be home in a few minutes. I suppose she's the one you need to talk to."

"Yes, she's the one listed as," the major caught herself, "Yes, she is."

The man nodded. He seemed to understand that they couldn't tell him anything until they'd told Rebecca, and he started small-talk to fill the time. He pulled a picture down from the wall. It was brown-and-white and showed a young man standing in front of a P-38 and squinting into strong sunlight. "Lieutenant Joseph O'Brian, Junior. I was with the Eleventh in the Pacific Theatre back when we were still the Army Air Corps. Are you a flyer, Major?"

"F-16," she answered, "Never in combat, though."

The man whistled, "I hear fighter slots are hard to get these days."

He stopped talking when car drove up on the gravel driveway, and the door opened. "Joe, who's here?" a woman asked.

"A couple of officers, Becky," Joe answered, "In here."

"War buddies?" she asked as she walked down the hall, but when she looked in the doorway, she was clearly startled. "I guess not."

"No Becky," Joe said, "You should probably be sitting."

Rebecca nodded and sat next to her father-in-law. "Ma'am, I am Major Samantha Carter. There are a couple of formalities we have to take care of," the Major said. "Are you Rebecca O'Brian?"

The woman nodded, and then Samantha asked, "Social Security Number 078-05-1120?"

"That's right," Rebecca answered quietly.

Carter didn't say anything for a minute. She'd rehearsed mentally for this, but she still wasn't sure what to actually say. Jonathan noticed her lapse and broke the silence: "You know why we're here, don't you?"

Rebecca nodded but asked, "Who was it?"

The chaplain was surprised by this and said, "Excuse me?"

"Three of Becky's boys are in the Air Force," Joseph explained, "One of them died, didn't he?"

"Joseph," Jonathan said simply.

"Joey," the grandfather exhaled sharply, and Rebecca started to cry. "How?" she whispered.

Carter picked the conversation back up at this point. "How much do you know about the nature of Airman O'Brian's work?"

"It was something to do with radar," Rebecca answered, "He was at NORAD."

"That's where my team is based," Carter expanded, "But our work deal with observation facilities used by the Air Force outside of US territorial limits. We visit international facilities that deal with deep-space research. Airman O'Brian was assigned to provide security for the team when we went to a pre-industrial nation in June to for visual inspection. While we were there, a group of anti-foreign terrorists attacked us. Your son was fatally wounded. We retreated into the facility, which is where he died. We were pinned down there for a week before another faction sympathetic to the United States was able to extract us."

"Why are we just hearing about this now?" Rebecca asked.

"The State Department was concerned that making the situation public would complicate relations with the local government. That's why I can't tell you all of the details, like the name of the location where it happened," Samantha answered.

"I just," Rebecca shook her head, "He was a good kid."

"Yes Ma'am, and a good man. He performed his duty with excellence, and his loss is mourned. He will be given a purple heart; I regret that need for silence regarding the specific nature of our mission will probably undermine his chances for any of the higher awards."

Rebecca put one of her hands onto Samantha's. "Thank you, Major, but that's not really important right now. It's hard to believe he's really gone."

The group lapsed into silence. Then Joseph said, "We need to tell Sean. Call Michael, Mary, Conner, and Patrick. I suppose we should let the parish know too." The old man stood and slowly left the room.

Rebecca looked up, "When will his body get here?"

Samantha hesitated, "Because . . . because of the time it took to extract the team, and the local weather conditions, the body was in pretty bad shape. We had to cremate him."

"Oh," Rebecca answered, "I understand. I mean, they used to say that you shouldn't get cremated, that you needed to be buried, but I haven't heard anything about that since I was little."

"The Church isn't as strict about that discipline anymore," Abouna Jonathan explained, "As long as the intention of cremation isn't to deny belief in the resurrection of the body, it is permitted."

"You're a priest?" Rebecca hadn't recognized the chaplain's cross lapel pin on his uniform.

"Abouna Jonathan," he answered, "Archdiocese for the Military Services."

A minute later Joseph and Sean returned to the room. Sean had tears in his eyes; his grandfather had already broken the news. Sean sat next to his mother and she put her arm around him. Sitting, they were about the same height. Joseph didn't sit down. "I'll go call the others," he said, again leaving the room.

"It is often comforting to pray the Office for the Dead," Jonathan offered. Sean looked at his mother, who nodded. The priest took the books he'd brought and opened then to a ribbon near the back. They were already set for the hour of Terce from the Office for the Dead; it was a part of his preparations. He handed one book to Rebecca and shared another with Samantha, the four prayed the psalms, and the priest chanted the reading.

* * *

"Here we are," the young woman who'd driven the team from the airfield into New York City said, "I'll be here when you come out."

"Thanks," Samantha said as she got out. The two people walked to the doorway of an art-deco apartment building that had probably been fashionable in the Twenties. "Five J, Kawalsky," Carter pressed the bell. Nothing happened for a minute, and she rang the bell again.

A grey-haired woman carrying a bag of groceries came up the steps behind the officers and asked, "Can I help ya?"

Recognizing the woman as a Pole, Carter asked, "Ma'am, are you Monika Kawalsky?"

The woman was surprised and said, "That's right. You're looking for me?"

"Yes Ma'am," the major answered, we--"

"Good," the woman interrupted, "You can carry these up the stairs. She pushed the bag into Jonathan's arms and rummaged through her purse for a moment. Removing a key, she opened the door and led the team through the hall and up a stairwell, finally reaching her apartment and letting them into a small kitchen. The building was not air-conditioned, and the high apartment was rather warm. "Just put them on the counter," she told Jonathan as she went about turning on fans.

"Ma'am, we--" Carter began, but the woman again interrupted her.

"Can I getcha anything? Iced tea? Lemonade?"

"Lemonade, please," Jonathan answered, and Samantha nodded.

The woman handed them the drinks and then said, "Now, sit yourselves down and I'll be with you in a minute." She put away the groceries while the officers waited at a much-used kitchen table. Finally she joined them, bringing a glass of iced tea for herself. "You're here about Charles," she said; the words were somewhere between a question and a declaration.

"Yes, Ma'am," the Major said, "I'm afraid that he's passed away."

"On a mission?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Carter answered, "How much do you know about what he was doing?"

"That he was good at it," the woman said fiercely, "He started enlisted. Worked his way up, earned himself a commission." She stopped, looked down, and added, "He called about a month ago, said he'd be out of touch for a while. Didn't know how long; couldn't share the details. That's the way his assignments always went. 'I'll be out of touch, ma,' he'd say, 'don't know how long. I can't share the details, but don't worry. I'll be fine.' That's what he'd say. But when he called last time, he left that last part out. He didn't say 'Don't worry, I'll be fine.' So I figured that he must'a known he might not be comin' home from that one."

"Ma'am, the team he was on--" Carter tried to explain, but the woman stopped her.

"If you start tellin' me details, I'll just start asking questions, and then things will be classified and I'll get mad. Just tell me that my boy died with honor."

"Yes Ma'am," the Major answered, "He served, and died, with honor."

"There's comfort in that," the woman sighed, "So what's next?"

"As Charles' Next-of-Kin, you'll receive his effects and life insurance," Samantha said.

"Do you have any family or close friends nearby?" Jonathan asked.

"Just the ladies that I have coffee with every morning," she answered, "I suppose I should call and tell them."

Monika called a couple of the ladies, and they apparently called the others, because fifteen minutes later there were half-a-dozen women gathered in the kitchen. Jonathan realized that there was no easy way to share two breviaries among nine people and instead suggested they pray the rosary. Half an hour later, the officers left the apartment, trusting the other women to comfort Monika as well as anyone could.

* * *

"Emerson Green is the NOK for WO Green. According to the file, it's his brother," Carter said during the car ride between apartments, "He commented once that his uncle raised him, but he never talked about his brother."

"I'd never met Green," Abouna answered. As they pulled up to the high-rise apartment, he whistled, "Nice place."

The bellman opened the car door, and, as the officers got out, he told them, "Welcome to Winchester Limited: your driver can pull around to the right for underground parking."

"She'll need to remain here, actually," the Major answered, "It's protocol."

"Well, ah," the man stammered, looking around, "Could she pull up so that the entrance isn't blocked?"

Carter nodded and stuck her head back into the car: "Pull up ten feet and wait there."

"Yes Ma'am," the driver answered.

When the Major closed the door and rejoined Abouna and the bellman, the latter asked, "Can I help you find someone?"

"Yes, please," Samantha answered, "Emerson Green."

"Doctor Green? He's in, but he'll be leaving any minute now. He takes the trophy wife out for the afternoon every Friday." The bellman opened the door and concluded, "The elevator is across from the entrance. On the top floor, take a right go three doors until you come to apartment F."

"Thank you," the officers took off their hats as they entered, and they rode the elevator to the eighth floor and followed the bellman's directions.

The door opened an instant after Samantha rang the bell, and a well-dressed couple looked rather surprised to see them.

"Excuse me," Carter asked, "Are you Emerson Green?"

"It's Doctor Emerson Green," the man answered frostily, "What's this about?"

"Doctor, I'm Major Samantha Carter, of the United States Air Force, and I need to talk to you--"

"I gave at the office," he answered and attempted to squeeze out the door between the two officers.

"This isn't a fundraiser," Carter replied quickly, and then Abouna spoke.

"This is about you brother, Warrant Officer Steven Green," the priest said, "Could we speak inside?"

"We're busy," the doctor answered brusquely, "So you can just tell me here: did he get in trouble or get himself killed?"

"He was killed by hostile fire," the Major answered.

Emerson shook his head; "I told him years ago that if he'd leave the service, I'd pay his way through college. He should have listened. This is my lawyer," he handed Samantha a business card; "You can contact him about the burial and whatnot. Come on, Joan." He turned and walked toward the elevator.

His wife, Joan, smiled embarrassedly and whispered, "Excuse me," as she stepped through the officers and joined her husband.

* * *

"He'll be here in just a few minutes," the aide said, "He's getting ready to move to a facility in Oregon, so it's taking him a little extra time to get him to pay attention."

"Thanks," Samantha responded, "No hurry." She looked around the visiting room that she and Abouna Jonathan had been brought to upon their arrival. It was painted in pastels, and the padded chairs matched the color scheme. If the chairs weren't bolted down, she would have thought it was a children's room.

The door opened again, and a white-haired old man shambled into the room. The officers stood.

"Dr. Ballard?" Samantha asked.

"Call me Nick," he mumbled. Looking up at Carter, he added, "My hallucinations aren't usually so lovely."

"I'm really here, Nick," the Major answered, "I need to talk to you about your grandson."

"Daniel?" he asked hopefully.

"That's right, Dr. Daniel Jackson," she replied.

"Fool!" he grumbled, "Got mixed up in silly theories about aliens." Nicholas shook his head. "He should have known better!"

"Yes, well, Nick," Carter interrupted the rant, "Daniel started working for my team a few weeks ago."

"Military?" Nick asked, surprised, but he didn't give the major time to answer. "Couldn't get academic employment. Working for the military! What is he, an interpreter?"

"Yes, Nick, he was our interpreter," the Major said.

"Was? Couldn't he even keep that job?" the old man began muttering under his breath.

"He performed his duties brilliantly," Samantha retorted, "But he was killed by a terrorist group."

"Killed?" Nicholas looked like something had hit him. He focused on Carter: "Daniel's dead?"

"I'm sorry, Nick," she said.

"No!" he started sobbing.

"He served with honor--" the Major began, but Abouna Jonathan put a hand on her arm to stop her.

"Nick," the priest said softly, holding out his arms. The old man almost fell into Abouna, hugging him, and the priest gently put his arms around the old man's shoulders. They stayed in that position for several minutes before Nicholas was able to stand without support, and even in the half-hour that they spent sitting with the grieving man, almost nothing was said. They simply sat in the quiet room.

* * *

Major Carter and Abouna Jonathan took a Postal Service jet back to Colorado Springs. This wasn't a disguise like the one in which Daniel had been picked up from Florida; it was a real mail plane with a couple jump-seats in the passage between the cockpit and the cargo. In these jump-seats the officers had privacy from outside listeners.

The officers were quiet during takeoff, but once the plane leveled, Samantha spoke. "Abouna," she asked, "I fully support the decision to keep the stargate secret, but didn't it bother you, as a priest, to lie to those people?"

"As far as I've been informed, we didn't lie to them," the priest answered cautiously.

"But the General said you'd been briefed on Project Giza!" she protested.

"I was," he stated.

"We said that it was some foreign inspection gone wrong!" Samantha retorted.

"We told them that you went to a site outside of the United States in for the purpose of researching space objects outside of Earth's vicinity. While there, a group opposed to the principles of the United States attacked your team and killed some of your people. Another group, opposed to the first, enabled you to get home. What part of that was false?" the priest asked.

"I," Samantha paused, unable to find anything to disprove. "But a lie of omission is still a lie, and we didn't tell the whole truth."

"You're right that a lie of omission is of equal gravity to a lie of commission, but there's more to a lie of omission that simply leaving information out." Abouna Jonathan held up a hand with his index finger extended. "In a lie of omission you have to imply that you've shared all relevant truths while withholding something. We did withhold information, but we stated that we were doing so. If we had given a reasonable location on Earth as part of the cover, then we would have been lying. What we said was that we wouldn't tell them where this occurred."

"You really thought this through," Samantha answered the lecture.

"Yeah," Abouna Jonathan answered, "I hashed it out with the General when the cover story was being written. He wanted to say that the whole thing happened in South America."

The officers sat in silence for several minutes, but then Abouna Jonathan spoke, "Sorry, I got a little intense there. Academic argumentation doesn't go over so well in pastoral practice, and I got carried away."

"I understand, Abouna," Samantha answered, "I've gotten carried away in arguments touching my field a few time. I was wondering, though: what about Dr. Ballard?"

"That was more problematic," the priest answered, "As I understand it, we don't know if Daniel is really going to die, or if he's going to still be alive and just dominated by the Goa'uld."

"But they can remove the snake, and then he'd be fine, if he survived the surgery," the major added.

"That's not going to happen, Major," the priest sighed, "I asked General West about it before we left. Considering the likelihood that the surgery would kill Dr. Jackson, the Pentagon has said not to attempt it."

"But a chance at freedom is worth the risk!"

"I'm not going to defend their decision, Major," Abouna said, "I haven't been able to change it either."

"Oh," Samantha answered. To change the subject, she commented, "That was quite a day."

"Yes, it was," Abouna answered, "How are you holding up?"

"It was hard, Abouna. I lost a third of my people on the mission, and that's hard to take. But I know that I did the right thing. I wasn't reckless or negligent."

"And what have you done for them since returning?"

"What do you mean?" she asked defensively, "I filed for them to get medals; we contacted their families. What else would I do?"

The priest sighed sympathetically, "Samantha, as people of faith, when things go poorly, we turn to prayer. As Catholics especially, when someone dies, we pray for their eternal rest."

Samantha shook her head. "Other than with those families today, it's been a long time since I prayed."

"You did fine today," he answered, "You haven't forgotten how. If it would help, I could hear your confession."

Samantha smiled, "That would be nice."

Abouna pulled a tiny violet stole made from a ribbon out of a pocket, kissed it, and placed it over his neck. He began, "In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit . . ."

* * *

Project Giza was reviewed at the personal request of President Kinsey by Lieutenant General Jacob Carter. His report to the President included a list of five recommendations:

1) The stargate should be mothballed in the bottom of the Cheyenne Mountain Missile Silo where it was operated. No plans for further gate-travel will be devised.

2) Dr. Daniel Jackson and Dr. Catherine Langford should be declared dead.

3) Lieutenant Charles Kawalsky, Warrant Officer Steven Green, and Airman First Class Joseph O'Brian IV should be posthumously awarded purple hearts.

4) Dr. Daniel Jackson, host to an immature Goa'uld, should be transferred to Area 51.

5) Project Giza should be discontinued and its personnel reassigned.

The President implemented all five recommendations. Major Samantha Carter was promoted to Lieutenant Colonel and assigned to the 52nd Fighter Wing. Airman First Class Harry Maybourne was promoted to Senior Airman and returned to Special Forces work. The remaining members of the team were reassigned according to their specialties.

After finishing the review, General Carter took several days leave to spend time with his daughter.

* * *

"It's a great move for your career, Sam," Jacob protested, "You're working with NATO, which brings visibility. Besides which, the 52nd has F-16s. I know you want to be in the cockpit again."

"Dad, my name is Samantha," his daughter argued, "and you should have asked me before pulling your strings. Besides which, there's more excitement in a trip through the gate than a hundred hours of flight." The phone rang, and Samantha said, "I'll get that."

Jacob was closer to the counter and picked up the device before his daughter reached it. "Carter residence," he said. After a moment, he added, "Speaking."

Samantha stood next to him with her arms crossed, waiting to continue the argument, but then she saw the color drain from his face.

"I'll be there right away," Jacob said, and he hung up the phone.

"Dad, what is it?"

"Iraq invaded Kuwait. I need to get to Washington immediately. Call Peterson and tell them I'm on my way."

* * *

**Author's Notes**: I've now edited and re-uploaded all five chapters of this story and declared it complete. There will be a sequel series re-writing the TV show with even bigger changes, but I have another project to work on first, so it will be a while. I thought that this chapter would be a short (2000 word=about half of the other chapters) epilogue, but when I wrote it, it turned into the second-longest chapter of the story.

One of my goals with this story is to improve my writing abilities. **Please review** and point out strengths/weaknesses of my writing. Everything is open game: characterization, language skills, cadence, et cetera.

There are some factual problems with the story, which I'll point out here. Some of these are errors caused by my ignorance; others are intentional changes.

**1**: CBs in the Air Force! In chapter 2, Kawalsky, Harris, and Johnson are identified as being from the construction battalion. In real life, the Construction Battalion is part of the Navy. This was an oversight on my part.

**2**: Warrant Officers in the Air Force! It wasn't until I was working on this chapter that I learned the Air Force doesn't use Warrant Officers. The use of that rank was phased out before 1990 (when the story is set) so Green shouldn't have that rank. Maybe I'll eventually go back and fix it, but not now.

**3**: The Notification Team! As far as I know, the practice of sending a chaplain as part of the Casualty Assistance Team was discontinued during the Vietnam "police action." Priests couldn't do home visits without frightening the families, who often thought that they were being notified of a casualty. The current practice (as I understand it) is for a team to consist of three individuals. The notifying officer, the driver, and a medic (in case a family member faints). The driver really would remain in the vehicle so that the team could leave quickly if the family responds violently.

**4**: "Abouna?" Don't Catholics just call priests "Father"? Yes, they do. My presentation of the Catholic Church is intended to accurately reflect Church Dogma, but the practices I describe are a blend of Western (Roman Catholic) observance and Eastern Catholic observance. The word "Abouna" really is Aramaic for "Father," and it is used as the honorific when addressing priests of the Maronite Catholic Church (which exists mainly in Lebanon). The way the Church is presented is an intentional change. My defense is that if I'm writing an Alternate Universe, I should be able to have fun altering things.


End file.
